Fluesternd Revised
by Crimson1
Summary: Cleanup chapter! How is everyone getting along after the big fight? Find out in the LAST part, PART 20 of my revised series, with a song as chapter 21! PLEASE REVIEW! 2020 song
1. 1

FLUESTERND - by Crimson  
  
  
*****1*****  
  
  
Wake up.   
  
In one way or another Fate is destined to royally screw you over. If you're not prepared to fight back, you'll get driven right into the ground. After all, even a golden shovel falters when digging a fallen angel out of Hell. Nevertheless, there is still one, universal, all saving truth:   
  
Hope.   
  
Hope never dies. It lies in waiting to make its move, suffocating the disbeliever, the persistent pessimist, and it always gains the upper hand if allowed enough room to breathe. Form, however, is never universal. Hope has more configurations than the world has false deities.   
  
Open your eyes.   
  
Hope will appear, whether it strikes you as a song, a scream, a trembling thunder, or the soft, sweet call......of......whispering......  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Delicate and nimble fingers ache across the keyboard, droning out an endless song that will haunt the owner's dreams if he continues playing the tune...   
  
Click. Pound. Click, click, click. How he wishes to be rid of the dreadful, empty echo.   
  
No such luck, unfortunately; he has a job to do.  
  
(What will be the end of this......) Young Naoe Nagi wonders. (He keeps giving me orders - do this, do that - but never tells me why. Why do you keep everything to yourself, Brad? When will it end.....?)  
  
"You're not supposed to care, kid. Remember?"  
  
Nagi grimaces, his marred reflection bouncing back at him from the computer screen. "Stop looking inside my head, Schuldrich." he replies dryly. "Don't you have your own job to do?"  
  
A tall red-head steps from the shadows of the far wall, grinning like the Cheshire Cat; a sly creature who slinks about, tormenting the innocent. Jade eyes glow with an inhuman radiance, dancing to the click-clack rhythm of the keys still typing away, though Nagi has taken his hands from the keyboard.  
  
"Why do you even bother doing it manually at all?" Schuldrich asks, humored by the thought. "You're just another freak like the rest of us. Trying to forget that won't take it away." he pauses to laugh, and Nagi shudders inwardly, feeling much like the student who cringes at their teacher's nails raking across the chalkboard. "You'd like it to go away, wouldn't you...? Huh, kid?"  
  
(Kid, kid, kid! I have a name!)  
  
"You ask me the same question everyday." Large eyes flick up as Nagi speaks, though he refuses to turn towards his companion. "Aren't you tired of the same answer? I want *you* to go away. Leave me alone. Walk around in someone else's mind for a change."  
  
Another scratch on the blackboard. "I'd rather stick with yours. There's always something new inside to surprise me."   
  
Schuldrich has been advancing on the boy by the computer screen, standing just behind him now, and thin lips curl back to grin again, widely, as long arms wrap in a false, motherly way around Nagi's narrow shoulders.   
  
The red-head bends down, those twisted lips whispering into the boy's ear. "Any juicy details on your idiot aijin to share, or haven't you taken a go at it yet?"  
  
Immediately, Schuldrich begins to feel a throbbing in his arms, as if someone is physically trying to pry them away, and suddenly he is tossed back, nearly toppling over, though Nagi hasn't moved an inch.  
  
"Toto is not an idiot...and I will NEVER share any part of her with you..." the small boy's words quiver up and down, laced with acidic tone. "If you even *think* of speaking about her that way again- "  
  
"You'll what?" Schuldrich asks smugly, steadying his footing. "You'll throw me into a wall? Rip my limbs from my body without even lifting a finger, the way you're just sitting in that chair now? What, Nagi? Tell me what you'll do?"  
  
The air is stale, thick, and impossible to breathe. A world cut off from time and space instantly becomes far too small.   
  
Nagi has turned in his chair, watching the red-head hatefully, and Schuldrich can feel the energy surging through the room, bouncing off the constellations on the walls. He smiles. A thousand nails on a hundred chalkboards could not replicate the shuddering impact of laughter filling the room.  
  
(Stop it........stop.......) Nagi screams silently, petrified in place as his mind continues to fight off the growing grip of both unsteady powers struggling for the upper hand.  
  
"Enough!"  
  
Like a cord cut, a new voice shatters the building tension, and Nagi can almost see the shards of cosmic glass hitting the floor as his mind breathes relief.  
  
A rigid figure steps into the room, blinding them with the light that emanates from beyond the doorway. He is taller than Schuldrich, taller by just enough to make him appear that much more threatening. His hair is dark - perfect - and his bronzed eyes glare with authority from behind a pair of black frames.   
  
"Schuldrich, I've warned you before about-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. 'Don't mess around with something you can't completely control'." the red-head interrupts, mocking the newcomer's tone with a familiar saying. "I know the lecture, Bradley. Can't I ever have a little fun?"  
  
Brad Crawford folds his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at Schuldrich as if preparing to punish a small child.   
  
"It's just as much my fault, Crawford." Nagi breaks in, before Brad can reply to the red-head's impudence. "I don't know enough about my abilities to use them so foolishly. I'm sorry."  
  
(There's that youth talking again, kid. We never signed any contract ordering compassion, you know?)   
  
Nagi flinches at Schuldrich's message, but ignores it. He could never lie to Brad. Compassion has nothing to do with it.  
  
"You should both know better." their leader growls, dropping his arms to the side. "Or would you prefer to destroy each other before we reach our goal?"  
  
Nagi hangs his head in thought at those brutal words. (Maybe if we knew fully what that goal is......)   
  
(Don't forget I can hear you, Naoe.)  
  
The young boy pushes his thoughts of doubt away in a heartbeat. What Schu hears, Schu tells.  
  
"Are you listening to me?!"  
  
Schuldrich and Nagi's heads jerk up at Brad's harsh voice.   
  
"I will not have either of you damaging our work when we are so close," he continues. "With the last pieces now in place, we're nearly ready to...uh..." a sudden jolt causes him to trail off, his gaze going blank.   
  
The others look to each other without saying a word, and Schu nods knowingly. They wait in silence for Brad to find his way back, signaled by another slight convulsion which throws him somewhat off balance.  
  
"What did you see?" Schuldrich asks flatly, once Brad has regained himself.  
  
Eager with curiosity, Nagi's eyes widen in wait for the answer. A reflexed prayer flutters through the boy's mind, begging for the premonition of an end...some end...any end...to their plight.  
  
"Get Farfarello." Brad commands in reply to Schu's question. "There is a new threat."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
There is a new beginning. Spring flourishes through the land; pastel flowers, warmer weather, and the constant tweet and buzz of revived life. Shadows and clouds of thickening grey rage and grow in the distance, but that can be forgotten, for sunlight glitters down on a humble flower shop defiant against the approaching storm.   
  
Light can be so terribly stubborn.  
  
A weathered mobile home is parked in the alley just behind the shop, and all its doors stand ajar as it waits to be fully unloaded after a long, ceaseless journey.  
  
"I hate getting the last batch! The biggest boxes are always on the bottom."   
  
This annoyed and slightly high-pitched voice has come from a diminutive, teenage boy, with golden strands of hair wisping into his brilliant, cobalt eyes as he stomps his foot in defeat.   
  
"Omi, with spaghetti noodle arms like that, you might as well give up while you're ahead." jokes the boy's slightly older friend, who towers nearly half a foot taller. "Leave this grunt work to the real men, bishounen. Wouldn't want to roughen up that soft skin."  
  
He laughs heartily at his own joke, but frustrated, young Tsukiyono Omi most definitely doesn't find the humor. "Baka! I'd like to see you do some actual manual labor for a change, Youji-kun!"  
  
Kudo Youji, with wild, sandy hair pulled back loosly from his face, gives no hint of leaving his perch against the back door to the shop. He only smirks, taking a long drag from his ever-present cigarette. "Already unpacked." he replies, emerald eyes shimmering. "I think I deserve a little R 'n' R."  
  
Omi grunts with disapproval, turning to face his companion sharply. "You've had nothing *but* R 'n' R since you first learned how to spell it!"  
  
Another puff of smoke escapes smiling lips. "Never cared much for spelling really. School, the three R's; all rubbish. I prefer the three S's myself: Sex - sex -..." Puff. Puff. "...and cigarettes."   
  
The younger boy groans audibly, returning his attention to the white, cardboard case that is giving him such a headache. It is filled with sweet-smelling, violet flowers, the last bunch left to be stored inside the shop, and it is nearly half the size of the boy himself.  
  
(I can do this...I *can* do this...) Omi chants internally, stretching his arms around the box's base.  
  
"All the money in the world says you fall flat on your cute, little behind after one step." Youji kids, watching as Omi prepares to hoist the case from the RV.   
  
Omi pays no mind, though, determined to get that last batch of flowers inside...one way or another. He steadies himself, takes a deep breath, and hoists the case fully into his arms. Nodding in slight admiration, Youji is surprised the boy managed to lift the box at all, but he won't get much time to savor the thought. As Omi attempts to turn around, he quickly looses his footing and begins backpedaling away from the vehicle...right towards a certain blonde-haired ladies' man.  
  
Luckily for Youji, his unfortunate friend loses balance completely *before* ramming into him. Realizing what is about to happen, he takes a quick step forward to catch the stumbling boy, and although his cigarette drops in the process, Omi lands safely in his outstretched arms.  
  
"Told you so." he declares merrily.  
  
"Hey, do you guys need any help out here?" calls a sudden voice from just behind the door.  
  
"Ken, no!"  
  
Too late.  
  
Youji is still standing quite close to the door as it swings open, sending the poor young man brutally forward. The impact not only knocks Omi down to land roughly atop the now crushed delphiniums, but it also lands Youji right on top of both.  
  
"Guys? Are you out he-" Ken stops mid-sentence, finally noticing his friends' predicament. His dark hair glistens with sweat from hauling so many supplies and cases of flowers inside, but ocean eyes beam past his slight fatigue at the humorous situation in front of him. "Did I...ah heh...interrupt something...?" he questions, every word littered with laughter as he struggles to contain himself.   
  
His friends, after all, are in a rather compromising position.  
  
Omi and Youji look at each other; up at Ken; at each other once more...and Youji suddenly bursts out laughing, not bothering to let Omi up.  
  
"Urrg! Get off! It's NOT funny!" the poor boy shrieks, at last finding his voice as he labors to crawl out from under the figure on top of him. "That really hurt, Youji-kun! Do you have any idea how much you weigh?!"  
  
Carefully, but teasingly slow, Youji pulls himself up, filled with slight indignation concerning that last remark, but still laughing heartilly along with Ken. Omi, on the other hand, glares daggers in their direction.   
  
"Go ahead, laugh away! But *you* can be the ones to tell Aya-kun what happened to the flowers!"  
  
They stop laughing.  
  
"Come on, Omi. It *was* kinda funny." Ken tries.  
  
"Besides..." Youji jumps in, dawning a sly smile. "You're just angry 'cause you wanted to be on top."  
  
A shadow spreads across the younger boy's face, and Youji knows he's gone too far.  
  
"Just joking, bishounen. You know I don't walk on *that* side of the street." he mends. "I only go for women. As long as they're over 18."  
  
Omi seems a bit less frazzled, but his resolve hasn't changed. "You're still telling Aya-kun."  
  
Youji makes a face, seeming about to retaliate, but Ken speaks first. "Where did Aya go, anyway?" the brunette questions, his nose crinkling in thought. "I haven't seen him since we got back."  
  
"Probably in the storage room." Youji offers. "I'll go get him."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Nothing could get to him. Nothing like *her*.   
  
Amethyst-tinted navy hues the braided hair, and child-like eyes are forever questioning. The memory of a name he took and tainted for the money to spare a young life reminds him of the lives he brought to an end. She woke up - but to what? Her brother is long dead, buried in tears shed for her ageless beauty, and the man left behind is a hallow husk of regret and bitter heartache.   
  
What can be taken back that was so willingly given away?  
  
Fujimiya Ran stands before a towering shelf of potted plants, bags of dirt and fertilizer, and the remnants of lives that ended long before they began. Scarlett tendrils fall against skin so pale and lifeless only the spark in his violet eyes prove him more than a ghost. There are no more supplies to be packed away, no more flowers to label and store, nothing left at all, but the simple act of leaving the room.  
  
Why, then, can Ran not take a single step?  
  
(If I leave here...she'll find me...) he muses, his mind paralyzed with thought. (...she'll smile and hug my arm...believing me to be the same man. She'll think it's all as it was before...before she fell asleep for so long...before I stained the name I took...and lost all rights to my own. How can I face her again...? How...?)  
  
"Oniichan...?" a timid voice beckons from behind him.  
  
(No...not now...)  
  
"Oniichan, what are you doing in here?"  
  
(If I don't turn around...she'll go away...please, Aya...stay away...)  
  
"Ran, what's wrong with you?"   
  
(What's wrong? I can't pretend anymore, Aya, *that* is what's wrong. I can't be something I'm not, but I couldn't bare it if you knew the truth...if you knew what I was...)  
  
A gentle hand is placed on his shoulder, urging him to answer his sister's anxious heart. "Oniichan...Ran...why won't you answer me? You barely stayed a day after I woke up, and now that you're back...you still..." he can hear the pain in her voice, feel her tears as if they were falling from his eyes alone. "...don't push me away...." she whispers. "I can't stand to be without you anymore..."   
  
Feeling desperate arms encircle his waste, Ran knows his cherished imoto is clinging to a shadow, to a wretched darkness that veils the light she seeks.  
  
(...I'm lost...in a world you can't be apart of...) he pines, remaining rigid and unmoving within her embrace. (...damn you...let go...let go before I destroy you, too...)  
  
Aya cannot let go, but only holds him tighter, sobbing so wretchedly, he can feel the dampness of her tears soaking through the back of his shirt.   
  
How long can someone bear to turn away when with all their heart they want to turn around?  
  
"...Aya...." he speaks at last, a trembling hand reaching to cover her's. "...forgive me...I'm not...the man I once was..."  
  
"...I know." comes her muffled reply. "Did you really think I didn't? I knew...I knew something strange was going on, especially after you left so suddenly."  
  
Slowly, gently, Ran turns around, slipping from his sister's arms. His eyes are indeed as stained and damp as hers, with the same unbearable streaks against pale skin.   
  
He had only wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. All those years of undue justice dealt. All those endless nights - he can never take back. One question shames it all so much more: Does she know what he has become?  
  
"You...you can't possibly know..." he insists, speaking in a frantic whisper.  
  
Aya looks up into her brother's urgent, anguished eyes. "A cozy, private room in a hospital, all mine for two years. That can add up pretty quickly, ne?" she states plainly, pushing her sorrows aside. "I know the flower shop does well, Oniichan, but not *that* well. You...you..."  
  
She finds it difficult to press on, her brother's features becoming more stricken by the syllable, but she knows she must if she's to ever have him back again.  
  
"...I know you've done some unthinkable things for my sake..." she continues, her eyes never once turning away from his. "When you left...I knew something had to be wrong. I had only just woken up, and...you could barely look at me. Sakura and I became friends so quickly, and I...I could see it in her eyes...she knew...she knew why you had been so cold to me..."  
  
"Sakura told you?!" Ran snaps harshly, cutting his sister off. "She told you -"  
  
"Nothing...I swear. It wouldn't matter to me anyway. Whatever you've done, you did it for me." Aya finishes, reaching out to grasp her brother's hand swiftly and firmly with her own.   
  
At first, Ran desperately wants to pull away; run away; fly away - where his white soul tainted grey can finally turn black. He would have...had he been able to move.  
  
"Oniichan...I don't care what you've done...I just want you to be my oniichan again..."   
  
And suddenly, she is in his arms, being held *by* him as much as she is holding on.  
  
Life and death are so nearly one in the same. They *are* the same, for the moment we begin to live we begin to die. It never ends. The ceaseless cycle of pain and suffering, a momentary lapse for us to collect ourselves in relief, and then back into the pits of Hell on Earth where all the world lives. Such truth can tear and shatter, but only in one another can we be put back together.  
  
"...Aya...I'm so sorry I left you..."  
  
"No, Oniichan. No..." comes the all too eager reply. "...I'm sorry I left *you*..."  
  
Footsteps. Rushed and carefree footsteps sound down the hallway, approaching the storeroom far too quickly. Their tender moment is destined for interruption.  
  
"Ran, for the record, it was not my fault." comes a voice, even before a familiar figure steps through the door. "...Oh. Sorry."  
  
Youji has entered the confined space of the shop's back room, walking in abruptly without a thought at what he might find. Emerald eyes widen now in utter disbelief.   
  
(Since when does Ran have a heart...?)  
  
"Youji..." the red-head starts, faltering in his speech as he quickly slips from his sister's eager arms. Suddenly, the weight of his sins are no longer the easy burden he believed them to be. As if they could *ever* be such a thing.  
  
(This is wrong...) he thinks bitterly. (...I'm a killer...a murderer...I can't...go back to her now...)  
  
"What do you want, Youji?" Ran asks at last, his accustomed, icy edge infiltrating his tone once again. He has abandoned his sister's willingness to understand. It isn't enough.  
  
(I guess it has to beat to be considered a heart...)  
  
"We're ready to open the shop." Youji states matter-of-factly. "Wouldn't want to keep our adoring fans waiting. Especially considering our usual clientele."  
  
Aya eyes both boys oddly as they speak to one another, sensing their evasiveness; curious at how each one seems to switch gears, accommodating the other's expectations. Her stubborn, Fujimiya mind reprimands her for staying silent, when she so desperately wants to scream. Was the tender moment between herself and her lost oniichan nothing but a flicker of a dream?  
  
"We'll be right there." comes Ran's chilling voice. "And don't spend all day flirting, Kudo. This is a business. Sell something."  
  
Youji smirks. Aya cringes. The scene before her is flawed. Surreal. Unfair.  
  
"Be sure you mean that, *Ran*." Youji replies, stressing the often forgotten name. "I'll take you seriously."  
  
It's funny how in the right tone of voice a joke can sound like a threat.  
  
A sharp glare from Ran silences the blonde, and Youji steps back through the door obediently, tossing a wink over his shoulder at Aya-chan as he heads for the front.  
  
Once again, they are alone.  
  
If she hadn't consciously noticed the change in atmosphere, Aya would've forgotten to breathe. Such a presence cannot feasibly exist to cause such anxiety in a single breath.  
  
"Ran, what is the matter with you?" Aya begins forcefully. "I thought...just now...urrhh! How can you turn away so quickly? Have you forgotten everything? How to smile? How to love? How to live? Look at me!"  
  
Ran flinches miserably. (I can't bear this!) he screams within, unable to do as she asks.   
  
Some tiny remnant of his former self had clawed and scratched its way back into his heart for that one moment while he held her. One moment. The image of Youji standing there in the doorway, truly aghast at seeing any sign of compassion or tenderness from their leader, cut the strings. A limp and lifeless puppet left to drag itself back into place.   
  
(I have no right to give her hope.) Ran's thoughts continue, despite his sister's urgency. (Fujimiya Ran is dead! You should forget me, Aya. Who I am now will only bring you pain...)  
  
"Ran, answer me!"  
  
Wrenched from his brooding reverie, Ran turns, looking down at his sister without an ounce of expression. "You do not belong here, Aya."  
  
"And where am I to go?" she replies, tears filling her eyes once again. "How can I leave you? You are not this robot standing in front of me! Forget what is pushing you away and become apart of my life again!"  
  
"I can't! Don't you understand that!?!" Ran booms, control lost as his voice fills the room with sudden malice and blind rage. "Your brother died with your parents that night! He died by your bedside every night for two years! Damn, can't you see?!"  
  
He speaks without thinking, slowly backing his sister against the wall as his vicious words fly from tongues of fire. Aya's eyes are wide and flooded with tears. She cannot raise her voice to stop him, but worse, he cannot stop himself, even as he grabs his sister's delicate wrists, forcing her roughly into the wall.   
  
"I have no right to hold you in my arms the way I did! I have no right to smile! To hell with forgetting! I have no right to love, or live, or breathe, or even feel anymore! You want your brother back?! Then look at what he's become! I am this wretched beast because of you!!"  
  
The boundaries of fear have faded; a barren valley of shadows leaving visions of undistorted terror to claw at the skin of innocence.  
  
Aya and Ran have become stone, neither capable of movement. The distant, fading call of Ran's rage deafens him, and he cannot even bring himself to loosen his grip on his sister's wrists. Surely they are pulsing with pain.  
  
(What am I saying...? How could I...)  
  
"What the hell is going on in here?! Ran...what are you doing...?"  
  
Ran remains a sculpture, watching his sister's eyes look sharply towards the door at the owner of that urgent voice. He can see the reflection of a startled young man shaming him from within those orbs of undue fear.  
  
Ken.  
  
"Ran, what are you doing?" the brunette repeats sternly, cautiously entering the room. "Let her go. Can't you see you're hurting her...?"  
  
Aya still hasn't spoken, mute from disbelief. Everything Ran said was the truth, and all that is left is a false fantasy she can never reclaim. Ran is gone - buried in frozen ashes and metal tears - because she fell asleep...and dreamed him away.   
  
Abruptly, Ran frees Aya from his crushing hold, stepping back with eerily blank features his sister cannot bear to look at. (The man I am now can never again be the man she wants back. If I let her know how much I wish I could...wipe away those tears...drive away her suffering...no! If she knew, she would never stop trying to get me back...)  
  
"Oniichan..." Aya's broken voice whispers, but Ran will not allow her to change his mind. Not now. Not ever. In his own misguided view of the man he has become, nothing of his humanity is left to be worth saving.  
  
"There is work to do." the red-head declares in a dead, unnerving tone. It is all he can bring himself to say.  
  
Watching him achingly as Ran sweeps past Ken and out of the room, Aya's heart tears in a million places, into a million broken shards, collapsing her to the ground from sheer grief.  
  
"Aya!" Ken calls, rushing to her side. He is used to Ran's cold demeaner, but *this*, this he cannot understand. "Aya, what happened? What did he say to you?"  
  
Angel tears of bitter crystal pour down her face, and her voice is difficult to find. "...only the truth, Ken-niisan..." she whimpers pitifully. "...I've lost him..."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
It was lost to him. The youth and laughter of days long past, all lost in a horrid screech of tires and the rancid smell of rubber. The memory would never desert him.  
  
Swept up in the pull of routine, Ran vaguely dusts a pot of orchids with his spray bottle, treating them with tender care. He knows the others are following his movements, whispering in curious voices about the incident with Aya.  
  
Ken had spent only a few moments in consolation with the grief-stricken girl, before her countenance unexpectedly changed.   
  
(I can't give up...not after everything that's happened...) she had thought with increasing determination. (If Ran chooses to act the part of the cruel, malicious sinner, then I'll play my part, too. I *will* get my oniichan back, whatever the cost...)  
  
Resolute, she had stood from the floor of the storeroom, and walked to the front of the shop with dried and fading tears on her cheeks. Somehow, Ken understood and followed suit, struggling to overcome his hot-headed tendencies and leave the matter where it stood:   
  
Aya and Ran had to get through this on their own, however Fate chose to lead them.  
  
Now, the shop welcomes customers with doors wide open, while a crew of uneasy florists cloak their true feelings with what everyone else expects to find. Nothing out of the ordinary...  
  
"Ohaiyo, minna-san! You're back!"  
  
Tomoe Sakura bounds through the shop doors, a bright smile stretching the length of her face. With light brown hair kept short since cutting it after Aya's awakening, Sakura is so much more her old self again. Carefree and genuine; the only one for miles.  
  
"How was your trip?" she continues, leaning against the main counter as everyone save Ran comes over to say hello. "You were gone for months, ne? Anything exciting happen?"  
  
(Just faced off against the American Army.) Youji thinks slyly, but figures he better not say so out loud.  
  
"Being away from such a beautiful, young woman for so long, how could anything be exciting?" the blonde grins, wrapping his arm loosely around Sakura's shoulders.  
  
"Careful, Yotan, Sakura-chan's not 18 *yet*." Aya states gleefully, conveniently her merry self as well.   
  
Sweeping the floor far away from the group, Ran takes comfort in his sister's tone. As long as she is happy, he can be at peace...in some form. Ironically, her thoughts mirror his own, and she wears her mask well in hopes of defying the fate he has chosen for himself.   
  
An imoto can be so terribly stubborn sometimes.  
  
"Ran-niisan, aren't you going to say hello?"  
  
It is the imoto in question who interrupts the red-head's thoughts, as he looks up from his sweeping with a dead-panned expression. "Ohaiyo, Sakura." he replies plainly, not bothering to pause in his work.  
  
(What's with him today...?) Sakura thinks curiously. (I thought Aya-kun was becoming more open with everyone. Well, I know how to cheer this place up...)   
  
"So, aren't you all excited about the new shop?" she asks, cleverly changing the subject.  
  
"What new shop, Sakura-chan?" Omi inquires, placing a pot of tulips in the front window.  
  
"The one right across the street, of course." she answers matter-of-factly. "Didn't you notice?"  
  
Ken steps over to the window, peering out. "But that building's been empty for years."   
  
His gaze passes over the newly painted walls and freshly trimmed windows of an old, two story shop, very similar to theirs. None of them had noticed the change, but grey siding was now a pale yellow; welcoming and beautiful.  
  
"I think whoever's opening that shop is playing a joke on you." Sakura adds.  
  
"What do you mean?" Aya questions, walking up to the window beside Ken.  
  
Sakura smiles warmly. "Just look at the sign in front. It's quite a coincidence."  
  
By now, everyone, including stoic Fujimiya Ran, stands in front of the large shop window to get a clear look at the building across the street. In front of it is a brightly painted sign.  
  
"Coffee and gift shop opening tomorrow," Ken reads aloud. "Kitten's Cafe?"  
  
"How cute!" Aya exclaims. "I wonder if it's on purpose......?"  
  
"Wouldn't that be fun?" an excited Youji comments. "Could it be our evil twins?"  
  
"Doubtful, Youji-kun." Omi states simply, nudging the blonde in the side. "We're not interesting enough to clone."  
  
"Speak for yourself, little boy." Youji replies with a look. "But I wonder who *is* opening that shop."  
  
Ran's thoughts stir as he steps away from the window, leaving the others to their conversation. (Who indeed...? I have a strange feeling about this...)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"There is an odd feeling in the air about this..."  
  
"We can't wait any longer. Weiss has returned, and Schwartz is on the move."  
  
"It's about time anyway! I'll turn into a fossil if we don't do something soon!"  
  
"And I can't wait to meet them all. It'll be so much fun!"  
  
"Fun? Don't you two ever think about these things logically? We have a mission to complete, if you recall?"  
  
"We certainly do, but don't give them such a hard time. I'm just as anxious to begin myself."  
  
"Do you really think we'll be able to pull this off?"  
  
"Of course we will, silly! It's our destiny...right?"  
  
"Destiny has nothing to do with it. It is simply something we must do."  
  
"Well said, my friend, and we are finally ready to fulfill it. It is time for Weiss and Schwartz to meet their end - through the calling of the wind - Fluesternd."  
  
  
*****A/N***** I hope you like this so far, because it is only the beginning. There are 20 total chapters, and I plan to post one every day, or every other day, until it is finished. Please, continue reading this. Also, reviews are always welcome. :-) 


	2. 2

*****2*****  
  
  
Are you awake yet?  
  
Take a nice, long swallow of fear, and perhaps it will rouse you from your naive existence. Perhaps not. But - caution now - maybe you'll be clued in on how fragile that existence truly is.   
  
The tiniest, most minuscule change in the common pattern of your life can change everything. Imagine, then, what would happen if you suddenly woke up to find yourself in a whole new world. Frightened. Hopeless. Aging into dust...  
  
Scared? Hoping someone will come to your rescue? Some guardian angel?  
  
Most messengers of the light are filled with a certain gnawing peace, a comforting, motherly tendency to look on the bright side. This, however, is not always true. Light can be corrupted, it can fade, it can change shape and color, it can even darken until it becomes a voidless black. Then, most definitely, that impure light is prone to mistake. It may even forget how to be the very thing it is meant to be:  
  
Hope.  
  
Such a familiar word. Yet, who really remembers what it means anymore, what it stands for? Hope is dying fast, dear friends, and light cannot save it alone.   
  
Light & Dark. Good & Evil. Right & Wrong. Love & Hate.  
  
It's all the same. One can never exist without its counterpart. Never. A million faces the world over see things like darkness and hatred as a plague to be cured. Not so. They are merely facts of life, part of the cycle we are all caged into.   
  
So what of the middle ground? What of the happy medium? Does such a thing even exist; do we search in vain for the extreme of one end or the other when we have a simple combination of both without even trying?  
  
Meaningless.  
  
No written words can express the truth of questions like that. One can only find the answers within themselves - as long as they bother to look.  
  
Oh, yes, hope is dying fast, obscured as it is entombed beneath the earth. What can be done to salvage it? Who can be called upon to change the Fates of both light and dark?  
  
Perhaps...perhaps...they are already fighting...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
A deafening silence cascades over the room. There is not a single sound wave; nothing to echo the drop of a pin - if one should dare to fall. No. Utter quiet. Not the calming peace of a rainy day, or the cryptic comfort of a library bookshelf. Not that sort of silence. Something far more unbearable.  
  
Stepping into the room, one transports to a jungle thick with threatening distortions. Padded walls like constant tree bark and tropical leaves closing in around you. A cold, metal floor - oddly damp - like the humid air of a rainforest, ripe with disease. Nothing could survive in such a place unless it had become one with the very walls and metal textures themselves. Only a beast of prey, a monster in the night wind, some unholy creature - yes! Only a being that had merged with its earthly sins - through its own free will - could possibly live here.   
  
What being? What creature? One that not only tolerates its home, but thrives in it. One that adores the fear dripping from the walls; loves every breathe of putrid air...because...he has to...  
  
Farfarello lays stiff and immobile on his even stiffer bed. There is an incredible crick in his back from the rigid position. Not pain - he is far beyond that now - just a sensation he rather enjoys. He would have preferred the floor, actually, but Crawford had insisted on putting the damned thing in his room.  
  
"You're not an animal. You can at least sleep in a bed like a real person." their leader had said, not bothering to hide his obvious disgust for the aforementioned albino. "Besides, you'll be recovering for quite a while with that wound, and I want you ready when our time comes."  
  
Remembering, Farfarello lifts a bandaged arm to trace the faint line stretching across his neck. It had been a handsome scar once the bleeding stopped, but it continues to fade as the mark heals, and soon there will be nothing left but memory.  
  
A tawny, golden eye blinks, pondering. (Siberian...I won't forget...a feeling...almost like pain...so sweet...)  
  
During Schwartz' last encounter with the members of Weiss - paired off as usual - Farfarello had instinctively gone for Hidaka Ken, the rash, young...hero?  
  
(...they are like us...we have no allegiance or feeling...we simply...are...)  
  
Moments before the battle's end, Ken had slashed his buknuks across Farfarello's throat, a wound which normally would have been fatal. Even against Farfarello it would have been, but Crawford had taken care of that.   
  
(...Fujimiya...)  
  
Using Fujimiya Ran's sister, Aya, Schwartz was able to perform an incantation which borrowed the girl's inner youth, making them near invincible. It was not meant to last forever, but it did its duty. Farfarello recovered, and Aya suffered no effects, other than being awakened from her long sleep, that is.   
  
Months later, the spell has nearly run its course, and when it ends, the mark on Farfarello's neck will stop fading - if it has not already disappeared. He can't help wondering; will it leave any remnants before time runs out...?  
  
"Better say your good-byes, Farf. I'm afraid this one's not sticking around."  
  
No need to look; Farfarello recognizes the nasal, taunting voice all too well. "I'll make up for it...later..." the Irishmen thinks aloud, remaining in his frozen position on the bed. "This recovery lasted too long...I have much to make up for..."  
  
Schuldrich furrows his eyebrows quizzically. He is standing just inside the door, leaning his lithe figure against the metal frame. Farfarello hadn't even noticed when the German unlocked the door, prying it open. Funny - it makes such a delicious creak.  
  
"Recovery's over. But..." the red-head begins, stepping over to the bed. It is pressed up against the right wall, with the headboard facing the door. As Schu approaches, he leans over the back, peering at Farfarello from above. "...I don't think Bradley's going to let you play for awhile. Not the way you're looking forward to, anyway. Though it does seem we may be getting a few new playmates." He grins, jade eyes glittering in the shadows as an eerily yellow one stares back.  
  
"Playmates...?"  
  
Schu grins wider, leaning far over the bed, his face nearly brushing against the ghostly skin of his fellow team member. "Playmate, come out and play with me..." he whispers.  
  
Farfarello knows this game, and finishes the phrase. "...hang...from my apple tree..."  
  
"That's right, Farfie." Schu laughs. "Let's go play."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"We're just playing! Don't be so melodramatic."  
  
"Then go kick that thing around outside! *Not* in the shop!"  
  
Light trespasses through every window and crack of the "Kitty in the House" flower shop; a new day on the rise. How soon the night withers - how bittersweet - when there are no dead knocking down your door.   
  
"Demo, Oniisan, we'd be out in the street if we went outside." Aya comments logically, bending down to recover the soccer ball she'd been passing to Omi and Ken.  
  
Ran scowls in her direction while slipping his apron over his head, a few scarlett strands disrupted out of place. "Out in the street is where we'll *all* be if we don't start running this business seriously."  
  
"Damnit, Ran, we don't open for another 45 minutes! Will you stop taking your agressions out on the rest of us?! I've had enough of this!"  
  
The stern red-head snaps his attention towards the extremely defiant ex-J-leaguer who has spoken so abruptly, glaring at the young man in angered surprise. Ken, not even remotely unnerved, stalks his way over to Ran, looking far too ready for a fight.  
  
The brooding red-ead's fowl disposition the day before had only escalated throughout the night. Scornful words and sour looks became more than any of them were able to tolerate, and Ken was in no mood to begin another day the same way.  
  
Ken - mournful, big brother to every misfortunate, neighborhood kid. He was the only one who would dare stand up to Ran in such a way without flinching.  
  
Youji? He prides himself on smooth-talking his way out of any sticky situation. Omi? The bright-eyed youth has no taste for confrontations amongst friends.  
  
Friends. Life's most abrasive contradiction.  
  
"I'm sick of this game." Ken hisses. "Pretending so hard every day we're not really feeling what we're feeling. Aren't we past all that? Haven't we earned the chance to be ourselves again? Haven't we?!"  
  
"It's only a soccer ball, Ken-kun. It doesn't matter." Aya's urgent voice breaks through the torturous static.  
  
"This is about more than some stupid soccer ball!" Ken cries, far too harshly. "Don't we suffer enough already...Abyssinian?" he finishes, stressing the codename boldly.   
  
None of them have ever spoken about anything concerning their true occupations in Aya's presence - until now.  
  
Ran is furious. "How dare -!"  
  
"Stop this!" Aya calls desperately, dashing between them to separate her brother from Ken. "Stop...please. How silly to get so upset over nothing." The ripples in her voice betray her anxiety, but she laughs it off, hoping to heal these growing fissures before they can no longer be repaired. "You over-reacted, ne?" she continues, directing her statement at Ken as she looks over her shoulder with beseeching eyes only he can see. "Stressful day yesterday, that's all. You understand why Ran would ask us not to play inside. Right, Ken-Ken?"  
  
A fatal blow.   
  
(She could melt the snow with those eyes...) Ken weakens, instantly changing face for the sake of his friends, and the sake of his soul.  
  
"Of course, Aya. You're right." the brunette concedes, his mask pulled tightly back in place with a false - yet believable - smile. "Baka! I'm getting worked up over nothing, and the day hasn't even started yet. Gomen nasai, Ran. I had a restless night."  
  
"We'll think better of it next time, Ran-niisan." Aya beams, spinning around to face the slowly calming red-head. "No more soccer inside. Forgive us?"  
  
Buried in the depths of Ran's better judgment, he recognizes the scene as artificial. But what does he care of falsity? He is no more ready to face reality than they are. "Hai. It was a senseless argument." he replies. "We're up early, anyway, and the shop doesn't open for awhile. You can play with it, I suppose. But *don't* make a mess!" he turns around then, picking up a misplaced pot of magnolias on his way to the front.  
  
"I don't think I'm up for soccer anymore." Omi declares, at last stepping away from the wall he'd gradually been backing up against.   
  
"Well, there is something we haven't done yet." Ken realizes, a cunning smirk brightening his features. "Someone has to wake up Youji."  
  
Omi stiffens, blue eyes widening in fear. "I *still* have nightmares of pillows and alarm-clocks flying at my head from the last time I went into his room before 9:00! *You* do it!"  
  
Ken takes a step back, shaking his head fiercely, while Aya is overcome with giggles. Listening in half-heartedly, Ran continues to move about the shop - placing this plant here, that plant there - and settles the quarrel himself. "Go get him, Omi. This shop won't run itself."  
  
Clearly appalled and indignant towards Ran's blunt decision, Omi is about to protest, when...  
  
"Ohaiyo! Lovely morning, ne?"  
  
The door leading down from their upstairs apartment has opened, a bright-eyed and fully dressed Kudo Youji standing in the doorframe. Every last person in the shop is completely taken aback.   
  
Kudo? Up before noon?  
  
"Yotan! We were just about to come wake you." Aya exclaims with a smile.  
  
Ken crosses in front of her, whacking Youji on the back. "No date last night, Youji? You must be losing your touch." he kids.  
  
Just then, a tall, older woman, black hair slightly tousled, makes her way down the stairs and slips passed the others with a shamed blush. All are quiet as she discreetly makes her way outside, but Youji is a smirk from ear to ear.  
  
"But...you're up." Ken mumbles, stating the strangely obvious fact.  
  
"And why not?" Youji asks, taking his apron from its hook and casually slipping it over his head. "It was easy to get a good night sleep..." He pauses for affect. "...since we wore ourselves out so quickly."  
  
Groan. Different story; same old ending.  
  
"Let's get to work." Ran states, obviously not amused.  
  
Another day is set back on track through the comfort of familiarity. We are all creatures of habit, after all. We cling to our common schedules, to our dull, remembered lives. Why? Would the mere hint of change crumble the foundation and walls around us?  
  
"Matte." Aya begins, an idea swiftly forming in her head. "We still have half an hour, don't we? Let's take advantage of it."  
  
Omi walks up to her, a bundle of violets gathered in his slender arms. "What do you mean?" he asks. "You can't do very much in just 30 minutes."  
  
Sly girls have answers to every question. "I know one thing." she counters, pointing a white finger across the street. "Kitten's Cafe opens at 8:30. We could be their first customers!"  
  
"What a great idea, Aya-chan!"  
  
"Don't get too excited." comes Ran's baritone voice. "There's alot of work to be done around here before *we* open at 9:00."   
  
"Then why don't just you boys go?" Aya inquires quickly. "I can get everything ready."  
  
As expected, Ran is quite hesitant about the idea, but since he doesn't reply immediately, there is the smallest chance he'll give consent.  
  
(Say yes, say yes, say yes.) Aya chants. (It would be so good for you to get your mind off the shop. Besides, with you gone for a bit, I could -)  
  
"I think it's a great idea!" Youji announces, taking his apron off even faster than he'd put it on. "I'm dying to know who's over there."  
  
"Me, too!" Omi agrees, inching towards the door. "What do you say, Aya-kun? Can we go?"  
  
"We promise we'll come back in time to open." Ken adds.  
  
Pathetically pleading eyes of all colors look to Ran in earnest. Would a little change really make that much difference?   
  
"I guess it wouldn't hurt to look the place over...if Aya takes care of everything here."  
  
(Yes!)  
  
"Wonderful, Oniichan!" Aya beams. "You can tell me all about it when you get back."  
  
"You don't mind staying behind, Aya-chan?" Omi questions.  
  
"Not at all. I'll go some other time. Besides, you guys deserve a break."  
  
On that favorable cue, Ken, Youji, and Omi are out the door in a flash, barely stopping for traffic as they cross the street.  
  
"We won't be long, Aya." Ran speaks calmly, not bothered by being left behind as he slips his apron off in a fluid motion like running water, tossing it with skill behind the counter. "You're sure you can handle everything alone?"  
  
"You worry too much, Ran." she smiles, setting herself to work even as she answers him. "I can handle this just fine. I'm surprised, though. I didn't think you'd want to go."  
  
Pause. Ran stands in the doorway leading to the outside, his features proving for a split second...that he is about to lie. "Just curious...I suppose." he answers, and is out the door before she can reply again.  
  
(Something is not right with this new shop.) stir Ran's pensive thoughts as he crosses the street. (What lies in wait behind those painted walls...?)  
  
  
*****   
  
  
What cries in vain behind those painted walls? What beckons so invitingly, yet brings about such spirits to dance along your spine?  
  
"Hurry up, Youji-kun! It's starting to rain!"  
  
"Hold...on...Omi." the winded blonde retorts, lagging behind. "Let's wait for Ran."  
  
Ken and Omi stand sheltered beneath the overhang of "Kitten's Cafe", impatiently tapping their feet upon the sidewalk.  
  
"Wait for Ran? He could leave ten minutes from now and *still* beat you here." Ken laughs, rolling his eyes. "I think it's about time you gave up your cancer sticks, Youji."  
  
Joining them in front of the shop, the taller man raises his eyebrows at such a horrifying statement. "You bet, Ken-Ken. Right after I swear off alcohol and declare I'm coming out of the closet."   
  
These words send Omi into a fit of giggles. "It's about time you finally admitted it!" he squeals.  
  
Youji's eyes narrow angrily, but before he can carry out any deadly intentions...  
  
"We have less than 30 minutes." comes an abrupt voice. "And we are *not* opening late. Unless you want to waste this time, I suggest you head inside."  
  
Ran has stepped onto the curb after crossing the street, and is now looking impatiently at his fellow team mates. No further prompting is needed as they take his "subtle" hint, and the anxious, young men hurry to the door with Ran following close behind.   
  
A pulse of warm, scented air - like vanilla and spice- as the freshly stained, wooden door opens. There is an instant wave of comfort, something so foreign, so pleasing to the senses, one feels at home, safely tucked away. Though the shop had appeared parallel in size to "Kitty in the House", it now proves to stretch much deeper in the back as they enter. Hardwood floors, a towering ceiling, and paraphernalia of wide variation come into view. Bookshelves line the right side; cards, gifts, and other miscellaneous items are along the left; a music section looms from the back; two checkout counters bookend near the front; and surrounded by it all sits a circular bar-like station, giving off an array of mingled scents.  
  
Such peace in this place. Such an odd, overwhelming peace...  
  
"Ohaiyo!!"  
  
Broken from their brief moment of nostalgia, the four florists are startled unexpectedly by a bright and energetic voice. Previously hidden and crouched behind one of the counters has popped up a small, young woman, wearing an extremely cheerful smile.  
  
"Welcome to Kitten's Cafe!" she goes on, tossing her raven hair over her shoulder. This is by far no mean feat, for the dark mane ripples down her back, and there is a curious lock of silver from her temple down the entire length of the straight, beautiful strands. "I'm Yawarakai Amaya. Please feel free to ask me any questions as you enjoy our establishment. Customer satisfaction is number one with us!"   
  
She pauses...smiles brightly...and...   
  
"Phew! I didn't think I could get through all that without losing it. Don't you just *hate* formalities?"  
  
The boys have been absorbing all this with varied responses, barely understanding the girl's frantic speech. But - shaking off their stunned amusement - nearly all break into smiles; Ran struggling to keep the corners of his mouth at bay.  
  
"I couldn't agree more, my dear." Youji begins suavely, leaning over the counter as he steps towards her. "They just get in the way. Personally, I'd be happy never speaking a word...as long as I had *your* body language to keep me company."  
  
The ice has broken.  
  
Omi stifles a laugh; Ken shakes his head, slipping off towards the books discreetly; and Ran has already disappeared.  
  
The young woman, Amaya, comes around from behind the counter - still with a smile - her deep, emerald eyes sparkling. "You know, being this short has some advantages..." she begins, walking up very close to the arrogant womanizer. She is in fact even shorter than Omi. "...so you better watch yourself, pretty boy. From this angle, I've got a nice, clear shot."  
  
Youji throws her a sideways smirk. "What, you're going to punch me in the stomach for that harmless remark?"  
  
"No." she replies, grinning all the more sweetly. "Lower."  
  
Ouch. A low blow - very low.  
  
His pride injured, Youji regains his composure with a short laugh, letting the girl's comment roll right off his back. "I think I need a cup of coffee." he states plainly, and long strides carry him away as he heads for the cafe stand.  
  
"Don't mind Youji." Omi mends, coming up next to the witty, young woman. "He's a bit crude, but we love him anyway."  
  
Amaya grins playfully back at the blue-eyed boy, apparently intrigued by those words. "Love him?" she inquires, a trace of humor in her tone. "So tell me, bishounen...which one's on top?"  
  
Instantly, Omi's cheeks blush sunset-red from embarrassment, and he fumbles for words to dispel such a belief from her eager mind. "No! I didn't mean...we don't...I wouldn't...uhhh...ummm..."  
  
Musical laughter sounds from the joyously blunt girl at Omi's reaction, and she roughly hooks her arm with his. "You're cute!" she announces happily, pulling him towards the gift area. "How 'bout I give you the "deluxe" tour?"  
  
"Uhhhh..."  
  
Say your prayers. Everyday, please. You never know when you'll need a few extra angels on your side. Then again, some people always seem to be looking for trouble.  
  
Youji is walking around the circular, cafe island, searching for signs of life. A good excuse or not, he actually does want a cup of coffee, but there doesn't seem to be anyone at the station. The wooden contraption is rather large, with stools lining the outside, and a smooth counter on top just waiting to be used by famished customers.   
  
An antique-looking cappuccino machine is slightly blocked from sight on the other side, with strange, sputtering noises emanating from it. Curious, Youji works his way around to the murmuring machine, peering over the counter as it comes into full view. Bent at the waste, with her head hidden behind it - is a shapely, young woman, wearing a tiny apron over a dangerously mini, mini-skirt.  
  
(Hello...) Youji thinks with a sly grin. (I knew there was a reason I wanted to come here today.)  
  
Apparently, the woman is trying to turn the machine on, but judging from the constant stream of muffled curses, Youji concludes she isn't having much luck.  
  
"Need a hand?" he asks abruptly, sitting himself down on one of the nearby stools.  
  
Caught completely off guard, the young woman jumps at the sound of his teasing voice, clanging her head against the piping above her. "Itai!" she cries, pulling herself out from behind the cappuccino machine as she straightens up, and rubbing her injured head.   
  
She isn't very tall, only an inch or so taller than Omi, and though she is still turned away from him, Youji has a lovely view of long, blonde hair in waves down to her elbows.  
  
(So far, so sexy...)  
  
"Sorry, about that, sweetheart. I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
Her head turns, and she glares at him over her shoulder, exposing fierce, snow-blue eyes. "Sweetheart?" she repeats in a low, angry tone.   
(Oooo, I think I made her mad.)  
  
"Well, *Sir*..." she begins sarcastically, walking up to the counter with prowling steps. "...at "Kitten's Cafe" the customer always gets professional treatment. But..." Her full lips curl into a dangerous smirk. "...since you haven't paid for anything yet, you're *not* a customer."  
  
"That's some twisted logic ya got there, *honey*." Youji retorts, leaning right in her face with his own menacing grin. "You seem a tad touchy to get upset over an innocent pet-name."  
  
She leans closer still over the counter. "Maybe I don't like pet-names."  
  
He leans even closer. "I guess I'll have to pay for something then, so you don't treat me unprofessionally." Emerald eyes lower a moment as he looks her over. "What's *your* going rate?"  
  
Ah, the thrill of the hunt. Even the most intelligent of creatures sometimes forgets the common rules of catching their prey, losing themselves in the excitement of danger when faced with a worthy adversary.   
  
The space around the cozy cafe suddenly feels a few degrees warmer in the anticipation between moments. Youji and the young woman are frozen in mirrored positions, nearly nose to nose, and eventually, one of them will have to break.  
  
(She'll either give in, or deck me into next week.) Youji contemplates, tracing her every curve with his eyes. (Either way...it'll be well worth it.)  
  
"You know what *I* have to say to that, big boy?" she asks in a seductive whisper, moving her mouth within centimeters of his ear.   
  
"Your place or mine?" he inquires hopefully, believing he has cleverly won her over.  
  
"Not quite..."  
  
Unbeknownst to the egotistical playboy, the voluptuous blonde has picked up a steaming coffee pot from under the counter. With him distracted, she has slid it up over the countertop, and now has it poised above his extremely vulnerable lap.  
  
"I was going to ask..." she begins, slowly pouring the contents from the pot. "...one lump or two?"  
  
Those same emerald eyes widen instantly from the incredible and unexpected pain, with Youji producing a sound much like the squeak of a young boy going through puberty, which - somewhere between humiliation and defeat - has gotten caught in his throat.  
  
(This just isn't my day...)   
  
But - to quote a cliché - there is always tomorrow. Too often, however, do people focus on the future, forgetting the importance of the moment. The now. Luckily, this is a hindrance Hidaka Ken knows nothing about.  
  
Lost within the shelves of books, Ken is taking every advantage of the few minutes he has in this newly opened shop, searching for a particular remnant from his past to be revived in his present.  
  
(Come on, they have to have it here somewhere...) he thinks impatiently, scanning each section with penetrating scrutiny. (I never get the chance to just relax with a good book anymore.)   
  
A solemn smile touches his lips.  
  
(Heh. If I told the guys how I used to read two or three a week when I was younger, they'd probably never believe me. All they see me as is some hot-headed jock who never reads anything but soccer magazines...)  
  
Fool. The gnawing of an aching twinge - reminding him of words he was forced to keep from speaking - pulls on his heartstrings, and takes his smile down with it.  
  
(They don't really know me at all...) he sighs, the books forgotten, though his feet continue to carry him through the stacks. (I know what Aya's trying to do, but how long are we supposed to live this way? Omi sees us all as friends, but what friends only have one thing in common?)   
  
He turns a corner blindly...   
  
(What friends consider lurking in back alleyways and murder quality time?)  
  
...lifts his head slowly as his thoughts stir...  
  
(Are we even human enough anymore to deserve friends? Or - )  
  
...and his eyes fall upon something so unexpected, it shatters those thoughts like so many shards of glass.  
  
Pleasantly hidden between two brimming shelves, a small step-stool rests, supporting a tall, young woman as she slips misplaced books into their proper positions . There is a silent grace about her movements - bewitching.   
  
An ashen-grey dress flutters around her ankles and stretches in long sleeves down slender arms. Ken's attention, however, is drawn to her pale, expressionless face, with navy curls framing it as they fall just past her shoulders. A simple pair of eyeglasses rests on her delicate nose, and from her profile, he can just make out the hint of silver behind the glass.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
The voice that speaks is abrupt and hard despite it's feminine pitch, and Ken suddenly realizes the girl is looking at him - she has spoken - and he is broken from his trance.  
  
"Errm...I...I was looking for a book..." he fumbles, feeling childish and afraid.  
  
"Ask Amaya up front to help you." she states bluntly, stepping off the stool.  
  
Ken realizes she is about to leave, having finished her work, and thinks quickly for a way to keep her, though he doesn't quite understand why. "Wait...!" he begins, grasping for words when she turns rudely back to him. "...why...why can't *you* help me? You do work here, right?"  
  
The navy-haired girl sighs heavily in annoyance, keeping her distance. "Technically...yes."  
  
"Then...why can't - "  
  
"Look." she cuts him off. "I have...work to do. So, why don't you take those scrawny, little, legs of yours back up to the front, and ask Amaya or Hiromi at the cafe stand to find your book. Which - I'm quite certain - is probably some droll action comic with big-breasted women who fall for idiot, macho underlings like yourself!"  
  
Yikes. Ken stands at an absolute loss, pushed back by the very contemptible tone of the girl's words. "I was only asking for -"  
  
"I don't care!" she interrupts again. "How clear do I have to be? Yes, I work here, but I am *not* a clerk."  
  
By now, Ken has regained his severed back-bone, narrowing his eyes indignantly as he steps closer to this embittered, young woman. "Gee, you think maybe that's on account of your people skills!?" he retorts, his sharp temper getting the better of him. "I was only asking nicely for a little help, and you practically jump down my throat, you...you..."  
  
"My *name* is Kei Nori." she states, not backing down. "And I don't care *what* you think of my people skills! So unless you're planning on buying something, GET OUT!!!" Having flung those final words right in Ken's face, the girl leaves, turning briskly on her heels.   
  
Ken is abandoned feeling drained and upset, the color rushing to his flushed cheeks. (What the hell was that?!) his mind cries frantically. (Either I just met a harpy, or Youji was right. Someone *did* clone us...and I just met Ran's.)  
  
The distinction between Fujimiya Ran and a harpy is not that great, actually. In fact, considering the manner in which he now stalks the racks of music at the back of the shop, one could easily mistake him for one.  
  
(There has to be something here...) he thinks suspiciously, surveying every corner and shadow as if it holds some hidden monster, waiting hungrily for him to turn his back. (This feeling...I'm not paranoid...I know there's something...)  
  
The serene and soothing presence in the air sears his lungs with every breath. Someone is trying to create a false atmosphere - or so Ran believes, rapidly making his way down each aisle - and it pulses an edgy fear through his veins. He is so overwhelmed by the itching feeling something is wrong with this place, he doesn't even notice...  
  
(Why do I feel like I'm being - )  
  
...the box of unshelved CD's at his feet.  
  
Ran jolts forward, falling hard to the wooden floor. The overly pleasant air rushes out of his lungs as his chest takes the brunt of the impact, stunning him. A moment of darkness suspends him out of time, until the force of air filling him once again brings him back. Ran shakes his head to clear it and tries to push himself up, hearing the soft shuffle of feet approaching him.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
It is a gentle and deep female voice that calls to him from above.  
  
"I'm sorry about the box. Nori must have forgotten it."  
  
Sitting himself up somewhat on his knees, Ran lifts his head towards the voice with slightly blurred vision, and discovers he is looking into a mirror. Electric, violet eyes, blood-red tendrils of hair, lily-white skin, and...a kind smile?  
  
"Do you need help getting up?" the voice asks, seeming to come from Ran's own lips in his reflection. "Hello?" it continues, littered lightly with laughter. "Kitten got your tongue, or are you just shy?"  
  
The mirror ripples away as Ran's vision clears, and he realizes it was never his reflection at all. A young woman, with coloring to match his, though her hair is all one length down to her chest, is crouched down beside him. If she were to stand upright, she would be just about his height, too, but with clear eyes Ran scolds himself for mistaking her for him. Her face and figure are far different. Lovely even...  
  
"That fall must have really knocked the wind out of you, ne?"  
  
Such patience in her tone.  
  
"...yes." he replies at last, regaining himself. "I wasn't watching carefully enough where I was going, it seems. The fall...surprised me."  
  
The girl stands, widening her smile as she extends a rather small hand down to him. He accepts it cautiously, feeling her surprising strength as she pulls him to his feet.   
  
"Well, I certainly hope it won't keep you from coming here again." she states, every syllable filled with friendly charm. "I'm Rosuto Aiko, one of the owners of "Kitten's Cafe"." With Ran's hand still grasped in hers, she shakes it in introduction.  
  
"Fujimiya Ran, from - "  
  
" 'Kitty in the house', the flower shop across the street. Right?"  
  
Her knowledge catches him off guard. "How do you -"  
  
"I watched you walk over from my room upstairs." she says, cutting him off again as she releases his hand gently. "I hope you don't think we're trying to steal your name idea. We must think alike."  
  
Whatever uneasiness Ran felt before, it is only growing more powerful with each minute in this girl's presence. It is not that she seems superficial or fake, but that she is so truly genuine. The world doesn't give birth to many like that anymore.  
  
"An odd coincidence, isn't it?" he questions with narrowed eyes. "Who exactly -"  
  
"There you are, Aiko!"  
  
A piercingly familiar voice sounds from behind him, interrupting his chance for interrogation. Ran begins to turn, but is roughly pushed to the side as the energetic girl from the front bounds past him with Omi attached to her arm.  
  
"These are the boys from the flower shop! Isn't this one a cutie?!"  
  
Omi looks to Ran with wide, blue eyes, silently screaming for help. Clearly the girl believes she has acquired a treasured, new possession.  
  
"Definitely, Amaya." the red-haired woman laughs. "I hope she isn't being too abrasive for you?" she asks, turning her attention on Omi.  
  
"Uhhh...no...not really..." Omi mumbles, trying hard not to sound unappreciative. "She was nice enough to show me around your shop. It's very homey."  
  
"I'm glad you feel that way." the young woman replies. "We want people to feel comfortable here."  
  
"Then you better hire a new waitress!"  
  
This angry baritone voice has erupted from down the aisle, and as the group turns towards it, they discover a furious Youji heading their direction with a dark stain on the front of his pants. A stain which - judging from his awkward steps - wasn't put there by a very pleasant experience.  
  
The raven-haired girl, still clinging tightly to Omi, giggles. "Looks like you got on Hiromi's bad side, too. Huh, 'Mr. Smooth-talker'?"   
  
Youji is not amused. "Listen, you little -"  
  
"I'm very sorry about this." the red-head mends quickly, sweeping past the others towards the angry young man. "We'll give you a weeks worth of free coffee if she caused you any discomfort. At "Kitten's Cafe" every customer is treated -"  
  
"Professionally." Youji finishes with a snarl. "I know."  
  
The young woman, Aiko, smiles sympathetically, and Youji instantly feels ashamed of his bitter tone. After all, he never could bring himself to hurt a woman's feelings. At least, not on purpose.  
  
"It's ok. Really." he dismisses, happy to ease the girl's embarrassment. "It's about time we headed back to our shop, anyway, so I can easily get a clean pair of pants."  
  
Amaya walks up to him on those words, with Omi dragging behind, and smirks evilly. "And what about your burnt -"  
  
"Amaya!" the red-head reprimands, shooting her a disapproving glance. She smiles at Youji then, turning a bit to smile back at Ran as well. "How about I show you boys out? I think it might be safer that way."  
  
All three florists like the sound of that very much, Omi desperately trying to wrench his arm out of Amaya's grip.   
  
They begin walking to the end of the aisles of CD's and sheet music, heading for the front, when Youji suddenly remembers the missing member of their quartet.  
  
"Anyone know what happened to Ken?"  
  
Dramatic pause.  
  
"Let's get the hell out of here!"  
  
Cringe. A new, greatly angered voice echoes over the shelves, bouncing off the high ceiling. Ken has emerged from the book area, still with his temper flared, and the group meets up with him beside the cafe stand.  
  
"Oh dear, Hiromi didn't spill something on you, too, did she?"  
  
Fierce ocean eyes burn into the red-head as Ken turns to answer. "No, but the blue-fairy of death gave me a nice welcome! Can we get out of here, please?"  
  
"Yes, I think it would be best if we started for the shop now." Ran answers plainly, still eyeing his semi-twin warily. His look, however, only causes her to smile more sweetly back at him.  
  
"I understand." she states. "Hopefully you'll come again some other time."  
  
"Yeah, that'll happen..." Youji grumbles under his breath.  
  
Just then, a beaming, blonde Hiromi comes out from behind the cafe, with an unforgettable, swiveling step. "See ya around, hot stuff." she winks.  
  
"Maybe we'll come by *your* shop some time." Amaya adds, at last allowing Omi to free himself from her grasp.  
  
Omi and Youji attempt feigning enthusiasm as the boys head for the door, with Ken storming ahead of them, and Ran lagging behind, looking back at the girls as he slips outside.  
  
(Something's not right...I can feel it...but what...?)  
  
The disturbance in the air from so many raging emotions stills, and the three, young women watch the boys cross the street with intrigued smiles. There is something indeed. Something in their eyes, in the silence they allow to blanket over them.   
  
"So, how do you think it went?" Amaya's bright voice breaks through the stillness.  
  
"*I* certainly had fun." Hiromi replies, hopping up onto one of the stools.  
  
Aiko stands more reserved, contemplating the encounter objectively. "They weren't what I expected, that's for sure." the red-head speaks slowly, a clever grin playing across her pale features. "What do *you* think...Nori?"  
  
Silently, the navy-haired young woman - whom Ken had the pleasure of meeting - appears from the back. Aiko's question is clearly directed at her, though she couldn't possibly have seen her coming.  
  
"I think we're wasting our time." Nori answers sharply. "I don't understand why we're even bothering with Weiss. Why not go after Schwartz directly?"  
  
"You know why." Aiko replies, still in a gentle, motherly tone, sensing Nori is just behind her, but keeping her eyes on the shop across the street. "I pledged to destroy both, and *that* is what we are going to do."  
  
Nori sighs in contempt, looking to each of her friends for support, but both Amaya and Hiromi shake their heads sternly as she does. There is no going against Aiko's wishes. They owe her everything.   
  
Deep down, Nori knows she wouldn't defy their leader even if the others *had* been on her side. Sour-disposition or no, Nori considers all of them her closest friends, and it is through their bond that they will succeed in their mission.  
  
"When do we begin?" the harsh, young woman asks in concession.  
  
At long last, Aiko turns back to her friends to answer Nori's question, the anticipation of a long wait - finally put to rest - shining in her violet eyes. "Tonight."  
  
  
*****A/N***** 2 parts up and running! Please, tell your friends, and keep reading. This story will deal with everything, and appeal to everyone in one way or another. As for details, you will have to read to find out. 


	3. 3

*****3*****  
  
  
Sleep is overrated.  
  
Imagine how many precious hours are wasted in the time spent counting sheep and suffering through nightmares. Imagine. Our wasted lives already give up so much of ourselves that we will never get back. Why would anyone want to dwindle any more?   
  
Then again, why are some few individuals sharp enough to stay awake?  
  
Perhaps some poor creatures of humanity shy from their childhood beddie-byes in fear of what their subconscious will create during their slumber. Terrified of what their inner self may do if let loose upon the unsuspecting world.  
  
We are all two-sided.  
  
Each boy and girl - villain or anti-hero - is a million shades of grey. There is no black or white. There never was. We are all either a lighter or darker shade of ash. Whatever survives the fire proves strong enough to withstand the blinding light that never was, and the suffocating darkness that lives only in fairy tales.  
  
We still need heroes, however. Not those who fight for justice, but those who fight for compassion. Not righteous hunters who murder and slay for their causes, but warriors who see no need for violence at all. Oh, yes, how we need them. We need them to struggle for our sakes. Battle for our souls. Challenge every evil for our salvation.  
  
They are not black nor white, neither do they clothe themselves in the pretense of being so. They are endlessly grey. Just like everyone else...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
A warm breeze billows through the branches above, rustling the countless leaves of jaded green. It's a familiar path, covered in cherry blossoms that have blown from the field just ahead. Often have the same soundless, faltering feet walked amongst the mingled scents of sweet and bitter memory. Often has the same mind yearned to find this place peaceful, as anyone would, but failed along the way.  
  
Naoe Nagi comes to the end of the thickening trees, peering through the last few branches into the clearing beyond. Seated innocently in the center of a thousand pink blossoms, is the most fragile and treasured blossom of all.  
  
(Toto...) Nagi smiles. (Waiting for me again, with your little, stuffed bunny to keep you company...)  
  
"Do you think Nagi will visit us today, Rabbi-chan?" he hears her all too youthful voice ask of her tattered friend, traveling on the wind across the meadow. "I miss him when he's not here. It's lonely in the house with just us. With Chen...and Pel...and Noi...all gone..." Such sadness "I hope he comes today..."  
  
Nagi flinches at her words. She has been this way ever since her team mates died, leaving her all alone. If Nagi hadn't saved her that night, she most likely would have joined them, but at least she wouldn't have to take care of herself. That is something she cannot do.   
  
Ever since that night, Nagi has been doing all he can to take care of Toto - with Crawford's hesitant permission - but he cannot stay with her, and even if it was allowed, he would not want her to stay with him. With Schwartz. She belongs here in the flower field, so he helped her fix up an old cottage near Schreient's demolished home, bringing her supplies and visiting as often as possible. It is certainly better than having her locked away in some institution for the way she is, but Nagi still feels he is cheating her. The once smiling girl with so much life and hope is withering away, and her stunted mind cannot grasp the reasons.   
  
She is a child.  
  
(Toto...I...I...) He can't even bring his mind to form the words. So, instead, he reaches out with it, lifting stray petals of pale pink into the air. Always does he greet her this way, for he knows it will make her smile. Even if that smile is more faded with each new day.  
  
Trained to notice the change in the wind, Toto jerks her head up, watching the flowers flow around her. "Nagi-kun!?" she calls, standing up and spinning around to locate her beloved companion. At last, she sees him, as the frail, young boy approaches from the trees. "Nagi! Nagi! You came!"  
  
Nagi braces himself as she glomps him, her dear, stuffed bunny still held tightly in one hand. How simplistic are her emotions and reaction. How innocent, despite the acts of her troubled past.  
  
"Hai, Toto. I came." Nagi whispers, hugging her firmly in response. "Did you miss me?" he asks after a pause, already knowing the answer.  
  
"So much, Nagi-kun!" she replies excitedly, refusing to let him go. "I wish you didn't have to stay away so long."  
  
Her words wound him deeply, for he is about to tell her something she will not understand. "I...need to speak to you...about that...Toto..." he hesitates, gently pushing her arms away.  
  
The brief joy that had illuminated her bright, blue eyes is stripped away with the change in Nagi's tone, and she clings Rabbi-chan to her chest in anxiety.   
  
"There are some bad people after Schwartz, Toto," Nagi explains solemnly. "Crawford says I can't come...come see you for awhile..."  
  
"Are you in danger, Nagi-kun?" her tear-soaked voice asks frightfully.   
  
"I don't know, but it will be safer if I stay away. If I...stay with the others."  
  
A saddened pause. "How long?"  
  
Nagi cannot bear to look at her now; he knew she would ask him that. "A few weeks or more. Maybe...longer." he answers truthfully.   
  
Even without looking up at her, he knows she is crying. For ages, it seems, he has been a faithful, vigilant companion for her. Toto cannot bear to be alone for very long. "Can't...can't I come with you, Nagi-kun?" she questions longingly. "We promised to live together one day. Can't I -"  
  
"No, Toto." he stops her, lifting his watery, storm-cloud eyes. "You know that. I...I have to go now. Crawford almost kept me from coming at all today. I have to -"   
  
"What if you get hurt, and can't ever come back?" she asks suddenly, panicked. "Will you leave like Pel...and Chen...and Noi did...?" Toto has begun backing away from him, shaking her head deniably as the tears run down her cheeks.   
  
Nagi reaches out, wanting so much to wipe them away. "I'll come back. I promise -"  
  
"No!" she cries through angry sobs, backing away more swiftly. "You'll leave like everyone leaves!"  
  
Pained feet turn, carrying the whimpering girl away, out of the flower field and towards her lonely, little home, and leaving Nagi to cope with a feeling he has too often had to bear...  
  
Anguish.  
  
"Toto..." he whispers on deaf ears, the flower petals long since anchoring back to the ground.   
  
"Tough luck, kid." A taunting voice calls from the trees. "Guess you should have fucked her when you had the chance."  
  
Nagi feels a burning rage instantly build inside of him, the flowers at his feet exploding away with the force of his untrained power. "Shut up, Schuldrich." he hisses, not bothering to turn around.  
  
Unbearable laughter filters through the air, as it so often does, but it is soon overpowered by a second voice, making itself known with an odd curiousity.  
  
"Why do you care for her?"  
  
This voice is softer, more eerie and intriguing.  
  
"You wouldn't understand, Farfie." Schu's voice answers. "Your mind is too one track. Nagi's problem starts below the waste."  
  
Those words are the final pin-prick of cruelty. Nagi spins around, facing his comrades as they stand just inside the thick of trees; Schu leaning against a sickly maple, while Farfarello is stone-still, and without expression.  
  
"Don't listen to him, Farfarello." the young boy begins, stalking up to them. "He believes just because he can invade people's thoughts he knows what they mean."  
  
A shorter, humored laugh escapes the German's lips as he pushes himself from the tree trunk. "Maybe *you're* the one who doesn't know what they mean. Ever think of that, kid?" he smirks pointedly. "Now, let's get out of here. Wouldn't want to keep our darling Bradley waiting." The red-head walks ahead of them on that, leaving the others to follow him through the trees.   
  
It is Farfarello who waits for Nagi to make his way out of the meadow. Curiously, the Irishman watches the boy step past him, unable to follow. Noticing that his silent friend is still standing at the line of trees, Nagi turns back, and instantly discerns what that watchful, tawny eye is waiting for.  
  
"She makes the pain go away." he says simply, barely above a whisper.  
  
Satisfied, Farfarello wills his long legs to move forward, and the two continue through the forest side by side - silent - as they hurry to catch up to the swift red-head disappearing through the branches.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The red-head hurries to catch up to his friends disappearing through the shop door. It is almost 9 o'clock.  
  
"How was the cafe?" Aya asks happily, sitting comfortably behind the front counter as four very disgruntled florists storm through the door. "I'm thinking...you didn't have a good time, ne?"  
  
"You can say that again!"  
  
The blue-haired girl turns her attention to Youji, who has so eagerly replied, noticing the brown stain on the front of his pants. Her eyebrows arch as she fails horribly in attempting to stifle her laughter.  
  
"It's not funny!" he growls, leaning back in a huff against the side wall, while his team mates unenthusiastically grab for their aprons. "I could have permanent damage because of that sarcastic, little bi-"  
  
"Youji!"  
  
"...witch." the emerald-eyed, young man finishes, polishing his choice of insult after Omi's subtle correction.  
  
As the younger boy finishes tying back his apron, Aya grabs his arm before he can pass her by. "Yotan's...accident...wasn't the only thing that happened, was it, Omi-kun?" she persists curiously.   
  
Her question induces a confirming grunt from Ken who walks past the counter with an armful of neglected azaleas.  
  
Eyeing Ken warily, Omi shrugs, smiling with little reassurance. "I don't know what happened to everyone else." he admits. "The girl *I* met wasn't all that bad...she was just...a bit too much for me."  
  
"Too much!?" Ken's voice explodes unexpectedly, the young man practically throwing the pot of flowers he had been holding onto a table. "You want too much?! The picture of sunshine *I* ran into gave me the rudest insult I've ever heard just because I was there!" He paces furiously, not noticing the tensed and fearful looks his companions are giving him.   
  
"Enough, Ken." Ran speaks sternly, stepping away from the front window. He has been watching the shop across the street with a scrutinizing gaze since they returned. "We'll have customers soon."  
  
Pausing mid pace, Ken's fists clench white as the bone beneath, his body searching for an outlet of his misplaced animosity that sends blood rushing to his face. "Of course *you* don't have anything to complain about." Ken retorts, staring Ran down from across the shop. "You were the only one who *wasn't* scalded, screamed at, or dragged around like a lost puppy."  
  
Omi's ears perk up at that last line, a slightly indignant look crossing his youthful features.  
  
"That red-head did seem pretty alright compared to the others." Youji comments thoughtfully, still resting against the wall. "You talked with her the longest, Ran. Anything strange about her?"  
  
With a sideways glance, Ran forgets Ken's mutinous demeanor for a moment. "No." he replies carefully. "She was very...pleasant."   
  
Narrowing his emerald eyes, Youji wonders what Ran *isn't* telling them, considering how odd and hesitant his words had been. Not wanting to stir any fuss, however, he shrugs it off, smiling slyly. "Leave it to Ran to meet up with the best of the bunch and still end up as miserable as the rest of us." he chuckles.  
  
Eventually, everything strives to fall back into place, with everyone finding some work to bury their questioning thoughts in; Ran and Ken steer clear of one another, still slightly on edge; Omi props open the front door for the day, greeting the few early customers with his veritable smile; Youji excuses himself a minute to change his pants, contemplating how delicious it would be to break that feisty waitress' resolve against him; and Aya remains at the counter, wondering what on Earth she is supposed to do next.  
  
(Every last one of them wears a mask...) she thinks desolately. (Once and a while it fades, and I can almost make out what they're really feeling, but not nearly often enough. I know who you are...Weiss. How much longer can you hide from me...?)  
  
Her aching thoughts could stretch endlessly, but today they are rudely interrupted.  
  
Ran has walked past the counter, stopping abruptly as he looks with rigid stance towards the door. Aya notices his sudden start, and peers past him, discovering the figure of a woman standing in the door frame.  
  
A lovely, smiling woman, with red hair - near as tragic as her brother's - in large curls resting on her shoulders. Her shining, blue eyes state so much without a word, and she is wearing an unforgettable red mini-skirt and blazer.  
  
(No...) Aya panics, unseen fear gripping her troubled heart. (She's the one who -)  
  
"Ohaiyo..." comes Ran's dead-toned voice. "...Manx."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Manx.   
  
The name and persona carry with it unwanted thoughts and obligations, though the woman herself is a joy. If only her appearance brought relief instead of the empty knowledge of their unfortunate, future prey.  
  
"Weiss, your next mission is imperative." warns the familiar, haunting voice from the video screen.   
  
Oh, yes, such a painfully common image and sound.  
  
The four assassins have placed themselves throughout the darkened, basement room, watching the silhouette of a man who has given them their missions since the death of his predecessor. Both were called Persia, but though the identity of the former became known, the truth behind this new figure remains hidden in shadows even more veiling than the man's darkened image.  
  
"Last night, *these* men broke into the Tosho Keiji Musiem of Foreign Artifacts."   
  
An image of three unbecoming characters pops up on the screen. The first is gaunt, with thining, ashen hair and sunken eyes; the second appears oddly prim, with slick, black hair and glasses; and the third wears a gruff, light-colored beard, his shaven head sporting a disfiguring scar that runs through his left eyebrow. They all have the look of cruel, remorseless villains. This is good, for it will make the kill so much easier.   
  
"After disposing of the guards on watch, they preceded to steal a rare tome from the musiem's vault..."  
  
A new image appears. It shows a large, weathered book with the semblance of ancient worlds and forgotten eras.  
  
"...and also killed many civilians in their escape. These men are wanted for many previous crimes, and the document taken has dangerous value. We believe they will be meeting with their buyer tonight outside the Kokaido Factory warehouse."  
  
The screen shifts once again, restoring the image behind the toneless voice echoing all throughout the room as it bounces off shallow walls. The four comrades in arms know what comes next; they could chorus this subsequent line by heart.  
  
"White hunters of light, hunt the future of these black beasts."  
  
Fade to Black.   
  
There is a moment of restless quiet which hangs in the air as it does with every new mission. The question remains...  
  
"Everyone in?" Manx asks with a smile. The answer is almost always the same, but still does she speak those accustomed words, every time without fail.   
  
"Hai." Omi answers with weak enthusiasm.  
  
"Always." smirks Youji.  
  
"Same here." Ken adds mechanically.  
  
And Ran gives a slow and purposeful nod.  
  
It is a rare occasion indeed when someone refuses to do the one thing they are so aptly trained for. So obscenely rare.  
  
"Remember now, boys..." Manx begins as she heads for the stairs. "...The Kokaido Factory isn't far from a residential area, so keep things under control, if you can." A wink signals her departure, but she doesn't get too far up the steps.  
  
"Manx, leaving so soon?" Youji grins, fluttering to the railing. "I have far too many rain checks in your name. Let me buy you a drink? It's devastating when your lovely face is gone for so many days at a time."  
  
(I'd rather she never came at all.) Omi's mind reacts in reflex, and he mentally kicks himself the moment those thoughts are formed. No point in regretting something you'll never make up for - nor ever escape from.  
  
"You'll have to add another rain check to the list then, Balinese." the blue-eyed beauty replies. "I have plans."  
  
Youji brings a hand to his chest in mock horror. "A date?" he asks miserably.  
  
Manx can't help but laugh lightly at that, though most of the others in the room roll their eyes in disgust. "An appointment." she states with finality, and slips quickly up the last few steps until disappearing altogether.  
  
Clinging to the lighter atmosphere formed in the room after Youji's common routine of failure, Omi and Ken walk up to the taller man, the mission safely tucked away in the vault of their misguided minds.  
  
"Shot down again, ne, Kudo?" Ken teases, wrapping an arm loosely around his friend's shoulders.  
  
Omi giggles, adding. "You say you only go for women over 18, Youji-kun, but I don't think they go for you."  
  
Truly hurt by such harsh comments, Youji frowns, tossing Ken's hand from his shoulder roughly. "They?!" he barks. "I'll have you know, Manx is the only woman who's *ever* refused me. Besides, I'm wearing her down."  
  
This is more than either boy can handle.  
  
"Right, Yotan." Omi kids sarcastically. "I know Manx isn't the only one who's said no to you. I can think of a few who have just today."   
  
Images of platinum waves and baby-blues float through Youji's mind, all attached to the most tormenting, curved hips he's ever seen. (That damn waitress!) the pride-stripped playboy thinks angrily, his face brightening red from the thought of her, though he can find no words to throw back at his eagerly taunting companions.  
  
Luckily, he wouldn't have had the chance.  
  
"Joke all you want." Ran speaks coldly, still sheltered in the shadows of the darkened corner he finds so comforting. "But do not forget where you will be tonight."  
  
Joy vacuums to the threat of twilight, the others turning to their leader with resentment. True, they are not merely your-friendly-neighborhood-florists, but that doesn't mean they enjoy being reminded of it.  
  
With authority, Ran steps into the sliver of light penetrating the tiny basement, exposing his deadened features. "We have a mission."  
  
And missions always come first.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Caution always comes first. In every situation, self-preservation is the overpowering directive. Seat belts in cars to protect the populous during traffic accidents, warning labels on cigarettes reminding the consumer of possible death and disease, the constant lecture children hear on not talking to strangers - the list is endless.   
  
Not to mention the careful concentration placed on saying the proper words at the proper time, all in order to shield the ignorant from a truth they may not be able to face.  
  
Manx continues down the sidewalk, heading for an abnormally average car parked out of sight from the shop's observant windows. Another woman is patiently waiting for her in the driver's seat. She is paler than the lilies sold in the popular shop down the street, with dark, brown hair, and caring eyes.  
  
"They accepted?" the woman's gentle voice asks as Manx opens the passenger door.  
  
The red-head waits until she is comfortably inside the car before answering, "As if they would refuse? This is their way of life, Kyoko."  
  
"Which is exactly the problem." the brunette states quickly. "And remember, *they* may be listening."  
  
Blue eyes widen slightly as Manx thinks those words over. How often she forgets. "Even if you're right...Birman..." she begins, correcting her choice of identity for the woman by her side. "...would it make any difference? If they wanted to, they could find out who we really are much more easily than just by waiting for us to slip up. They probably already know, anyway."  
  
A subtle raise of hazel eyebrows proves Birman agrees with the red-head's logic. However, the instant shadow crossing Manx's face indicates there is something else plagueing her mind.  
  
"What will we do if...if..." she tries, a concerned expression beseeching the friend beside her. "...what happens when Weiss wants to know the truth about Persia? If they start questioning things before it's time? They're bound to get curious eventually."  
  
Birman's mild, unreadable face darkens. There is only one answer to that question. "Let us hope they do not." her voice replies in a saddened whisper. She turns the key then, starting the rumbling engine slowly as she shifts into drive. "If they do..."  
  
Manx's breath catches unwittingly in her throat, her mind swaying with the movements of the vehicle as it pulls onto the road.  
  
"...it will be too late."   
  
  
*****  
  
  
It was getting late.   
  
Outside, the disfigured, partially-visible moon shines far too little light on the darkening city. Street lamps hold such shallow illumination, after all, and the lamp on a certain contemplative, red-haired woman's desk offers far too little of anything for her to see the object in her pale hand clearly.  
  
Rosuto Aiko has been cealed away in her room since the shop below her apartment home closed for the night. So much weighs on her mind, and the simple reminder of why she is so determined to complete her objective is wrapped around what is being held so tenderly in gentle fingers.  
  
"Shed a little light on the subject?" a voice calls into the red-head's room humorously, the shadows drastically shifting as the ceiling light is turned on by the flick of a switch. "Trying to go blind or what?"  
  
Aiko grins in spite of herself. The door is directly behind her, but she doesn't have to turn to know who's voice has interrupted her poignant thoughts. "I just didn't think about it, I guess." she answers in a light tone. "You know how I get sometimes, Hiromi."  
  
Entering slightly, the buxom blonde peers over Aiko's shoulder. She doesn't have to walk very close to see what her friend is holding between those slender fingers, for the thoughtful red-head is slumped in her chair.  
  
Hiromi smiles sympathetically as she realizes what it is her friend is looking at. "Staring at that thing again? What if it distracts you from our mission tonight?"  
  
Still facing forward, Aiko answers with kind conviction. "It won't distract me; it will give me incentive." she corrects. "You've come to get my butt in gear, I take it?" she asks then, with laughter in her voice as she sets the item down upon her desk.  
  
"Yep. It's almost show time. Nervous?"  
  
The question with an obvious answer. "Yep. But that's all right." Aiko smiles, rising from her seat as she finally faces her friend. "We're ready to begin, at last. And there is nothing anyone can do to stop us now."  
  
Soundlessly, anticipating feet tread over the floor as the young women leave the room. The light is switched off behind them, but the small lamp on the desk remains brightened. With silent vigil, the tiny rays of false sunshine float down on what Aiko had been savoring. Just a simple, square bit of plastic paper. A picture.   
  
Yes. A tattered, old picture of a young girl with auburn hair in two high pony-tails at the sides of her head. Pure joy enraptures the innocent face, and a treasured, paper airplane is clutched happily in her left hand as she bounds towards the fortunate person who is capturing her image.  
  
Hanging in the air above that stilled memory, Aiko's final thoughts remain. (I will prove you wrong...Botan. For *her* sake...I will prove you wrong.)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Somehow, everything felt wrong.  
  
Summer days have become eclipsed by a misplaced chill in the night air. A biting, northern wind is blowing, whistling with such resonance, one could easily hear as well as feel the force of it even from inside four, protective walls. How ironic is the weather compared to events that will follow, as if fate decrees that any needless lives taken tonight shall shift the very air we breathe.  
  
No sound, save the echoing wind outside his window, disturbs Ran as he prepares himself for midnight judgment. There is a routine he follows before every mission, something he has picked up over the years out of flawed necessity. He retrieves his assassin gear from the basement and retires swiftly to his room. The lights kept dim, he changes carefully - more irreversibly every time - and always finds a need to run an exposed finger over the blade of his katana before encasing his hands in shamed leather, as the rest of his slender form is clothed. Finally, he conceals his now sheathed weapon within the shadows of his trenchcoat - hidden as he hides, a white hunter in the night - prepared for whatever he may face in the hours to come.  
  
(Routine...) Ran ponders, playing the word over in his tired mind. (When did death become habit? How long ago...urrg! Why am I torturing myself like this?! I am Weiss. Weiss...)  
  
"Ran-niisan?" a pleading voice calls quietly from behind him.   
  
Ran stiffens. It is a familiar voice - alien all the same - reminding him all too well of the episode in the storeroom only yesterday. The same imoto has caught him off guard with her disheartening voice, urging his attention with a word. A horrible, undeserved word.   
  
"Aya, I thought I told you to stay with Momoe tonight. Why are you still here?" Ran asks coldly, frigid, frozen, and fearfully faced away from her.  
  
"I know. I'm going." she answers softly, sounding so very far away. "But I know what you'll be doing tonight. You can hide your face and your sword by refusing to face me, but I know. I know..."  
  
(You only think you know it all...) Ran retorts within, unable to speak his words aloud. (You think you know...but the details, the years spent without remorse...you know only vague dreams. And dreams is all you will know.)  
  
"Go, Aya." he states harshly, looking back over his shoulder with cruel eyes. "The shop opens early tomorrow. Go and get some sleep."  
  
More than anything, Aya wishes she could reach out to her troubled brother, but too many hindrances keep her from fulfilling the fairy-tale. Ran - stubborn and settled in his clouded way of life - wants only to fade into the shadows, keeping a watchful eye on the one light in his life, without fear of tainting her treasured innocence.   
  
How many other innocent people has he turned a blind eye to in the name of accomplishing a mission first? Too many. Too many for *her* to get caught in the crossfire of the next.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow then...Oniisan..." she breathes, relieving Ran's anxiety for one contradicting moment, with tears in her eyes as she defeatedly steps from the room.  
  
(Oniisan...? So formal.) Ran thinks sadly, lowering his head in his comforting solitude. (Always Oniichan, Oniichan...for so long...but now...) He shakes his head free from those lingering thoughts, forming his features into stone. No more time can be wasted thoughtlessly on the end of a rainbow rapidly fading away.   
  
There is a mission to complete, and the night waits without patience. Waiting to smother him in unforgiving arms once again.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Waiting to strike without regret once again - they linger, watching for their prey.   
  
Ran has melded with the north wall of the Kokaido factory warehouse, hidden amongst its shadows; Omi crouches easily behind a dumpster nearby, crinkling his nose at every ripe stench that wafts his way; and Ken and Youji are behind two parallel trees, all waiting silently and still.  
  
"Psst...hey, Ken...?" A hushed and curious voice rips through the quiet.   
  
Ken forms himself even more fully to the tree trunk his back is pressed against, carefully turning his head towards the man who has called his attention. "What is it, Balinese? They'll be here soon..."  
  
"I know, I know. I was just thinking..." the blonde begins in answer. They are in fact only a few feet from one another, but still, it is always dangerous when you risk loosing the element of surprise. "...isn't this kind of an odd mission? I mean, we don't usually handle the common, petty thief."  
  
His eyebrows furrowing in response, Ken takes a pause to consider Youji's assessment. Truthfully, he had initially thought the very same thing. But Persia would never send them on a mission that wasn't against some remarkably devilish enemy. Their quarries had always been so.   
  
Always.  
  
"Persia said the book they stole was real rare, remember? Maybe there's some dark ritual involved with it these guys are planning on carrying out." the brunette states logically, staring blankly forward as he considers his own words while he speaks them. "Besides, they did kill the guards, and a bunch of bystanders, too. I'd say that qualifies them for -"  
  
"It's about time, Ryu! I've been waiting down the street for ten minutes!"  
  
Repose broken. Fear wrenches through both assassins' hearts at the sudden voice echoing across the pavement beyond. They freeze, stalk still - even their breathing seems to slow - and they wait, watching, one with their camouflage as they anticipate their chance to strike.  
  
(They're here.) Ken's thoughts state the obvious, turning cautiously to Youji. Without a word spoken aloud, Ken almost hears the taller man's response through the urgent, emerald eyes looking back at him.  
  
(...careful...it's almost time...)  
  
"Don't yell at me, Boukai." a smooth voice calls, answering the one that had come before. "This volume is worth a high price to our buyer, and I will not be rushed."  
  
A man with short, black hair, slicked back neatly, has arrived in an easily unnoticeable car. He has stepped out of the vehicle and is approaching a tall, slightly older man with light hair - long in the back, though it is thinning to form a broad forehead - who has come up the pass on foot out of the hazy night. The dark-haired man carries a package, large and gently wrapped in brown paper. Both seem at ease, unaware of the hunting eyes that watch them.  
  
These men, without a doubt, are two of the questionable characters pictured on Weiss' mission screen not long ago.  
  
"Is Jerryck with you?" the taller one, Boukai, asks, gesturing to a shadowy figure in the backseat of the car.   
  
Tamuri Ryu, trim and wearing a long, grey trenchcoat - open against the wind - gives an uncaring nod. "You know how he is. His foolish voodoo tells him we're dealing with the Devil. I doubt he'll come out until our gracious benefactors have paid their dues and left."  
  
Boukai laughs, a sound unlike anything as it cuts through the air, gruff and pitchless. "How does that senseless gaijin survive in the world with those beliefs of his?" he questions the wind, throwing his voice out against the open, empty parking lot of the darkened Kokaido Factory.  
  
This exchange continues, the two talking easily and without fear. They believe their transaction will be completed without deterrence. How foolish to believe such a thing so blindly. How foolish to believe in anything...  
  
(Come on Omi...any time now...) Youji thinks impatiently.   
  
Their plan is all settled, as always. When the time is right, Ran will tell Omi to give the signal, and once the signal is clear, they strike. Simple.  
  
(Persia said to take out the thieves before the buyer gets here, and then deal with whoever's on the other end afterwards.) the blonde restates in his mind, confirming. (We just gotta wait for -)  
  
Clang!  
  
Slow motion. There is a sharp sound that rings from somewhere near the building, deafening and distinct. The two men in the parking lot - illuminated by the streetlights - turn sharply towards the noise, caught off guard and open for attack.  
  
(...the signal.)   
  
Blurred speed. Suddenly, darts shoot from somewhere unknown, hitting the soft ground around the unsuspecting victims. As Boukai and Ryu tense, searching madly in all directions for the nearby threat, Omi steps into the light, only yards from them.  
  
"Who the hell are you?!" Boukai barks, reaching swiftly for inside his jacket.  
  
"I wouldn't do that." a silky voice intercedes, immobilizing the balding man's arm.  
  
Youji has abandoned the security of his tree, approaching the pavement from the side, and Ken follows close behind, both with their weapons raised.  
  
"Whatever you want, you can have it!" Ryu cries out frightfully, dropping the package in his arms to the ground as he instinctively backs towards the car, noticing the deadly intent behind those weapons.  
  
Neither of the men seem prepared for what fate may deal them tonight.  
  
By now, Ran has also left the shadows behind, and all four assassins are revealed, with their targets surrounded against the car - no chance of escape save divine intervention.  
  
"There is nothing we want that you can give us." Ran's unfeeling voice pounds across the distance separating him from their panicked prey.   
  
Ryu and Boukai are pressed against the doors of the car in futile effort to escape whatever fate awaits them. Oddly enough, however, Jerryck, the nearly unseen man inside the vehicle, has barely moved, as if he senses no reason to be afraid.  
  
"Who...who are you?!" Boukai cries again, his voice cracking in whispered appeal.  
  
The four assassins close in from all sides, expressionless, with looks in their eyes that seem dead to the world. Eyes that must be dead to everything in order to survive tomorrow. You would see nothing but ash to look in them, because the eyes are the windows to the soul. And no intelligent assassin would ever take theirs along on a mission.  
  
Ran's katana glints sharply, appearing from nothing, as he steps forward to answer his prey's desperate, foolish question. "The white hunters in the night..." he speaks in a deadly growl. "...Weiss."  
  
Movement so swift and trained, no human eye could catch it, nor hope to stand in its way, as Ran springs forward, prepairing to strike. But...wait...imagine something swifter, more trained, with more purpose behind it. Why? Because that is what shall save three innocent lives tonight.  
  
A sharp, piercing screech of metal against metal unsettles the air, and sparks fly. Another figure has appeared from seemingly nothing, suddenly positionted between the terrified men and Ran's blade, holding that deadly katana at bay.   
  
Furious and caught by total and utter surprise, Ran's fierce, violet eyes bore into the eyes of his instant opponent. Eyes which mirror his own all too well.  
  
"You!!" he growls, straining against the weight of another's katana as it presses his own firmly down. The owner of the magnificent weapon returns his glare unwaveringly, her red hair blowing freely in the night wind.   
  
Wrapped in shock, Ran's teammates give no thought to protecting themselves from forces that might just as unexpectedly confront them. And, as if on cue, unseen foes do indeed strike them from behind, catching each one off guard, just as Ran has been caught.  
  
Omi feels the subtle prick of something sharp at his back, stiffening him, as an all too familiar voice calls with caution into his ear. "Stay still, cutie. Wouldn't wanna have to hurt you."   
  
Catching sight of Omi's dangerous position, Youji prepares himself to spring to the younger boy's aid, vaguely registering the sight of this memorable, raven-haired young woman who has overtaken his smaller friend. Unfortunately, he loses the opportunity to act as a curved knife presses against his throat from behind, its owner's body crowding close to his own.  
  
"Watch yourself, pretty boy." a teasing female voice calls playfully. "If you think coffee stains are hard to get out, I can show you something that's a hellava lot tougher."  
  
Ken, the only remaining member of Weiss, stands frozen, watching as his comrades are overcome. He can sense someone coming up behind him just the same, even before she strikes. Whirling around, Ken jumps back as a hard, wooden staff swipes at his feet, missing him by inches. But, before he can counter, the weapon swings from the other direction, the brunt of the impact catching him in the chest as he is sent painfully to the ground.   
  
Shaking the dizziness from the collision away, Ken stares up to discover a young woman standing guard above him, her silver eyes cold, while navy curls blow against her pale face.  
  
(It's them...from the cafe...) he discerns. (...but...how...?)  
  
"Go." a low, calm voice is heard, calling to the men standing stunned in front of their car. "Get in, and drive away."  
  
The woman who could pass for Ran's twin does not need to speak her words more than once. Ryu and Boukai fly to the doors of the vehicle without a word to one another, slamming them shut as they speed away - their once prized package left forgotten on the ground only feet from Ran and his adversary.  
  
"Who are you?!" Ran bellows, still struggling under the woman's strength through their clashing katanas. "Who do you think you are to intervene in our mission like this?!"  
  
Rosuto Aiko and her fellows are the picture of calm despite the tense situation developing. Smiling even as she suddenly steps back, Aiko releases Ran from the force of her weapon against his, answering the infuriated, young man with a poised, unshaken voice.  
  
"We are the calling of the wind, Abyssinian." she beams. "We are...Fluesternd."  
  
  
*****A/N/***** Part 3! Things are getting interesting. Please keep reviewing. 


	4. 4

*****4*****  
  
  
Dreams are fragile.  
  
Every fantasy played out in dear Dreamland is a vase of flowers teetering on the edge of insanity. Much in the world calms the spirit, but madness is far more interesting, blossoming from the many vacant thoughts in our heads.  
  
The world is even more frail. How long before the glass shatters, ending billions of lives by a jaded breeze? How many voices must cry out for retribution and redemption before our dying communities know mercy?  
  
Life seems pretty pointless in a perspective such as this: All the world is out to get you, no one is on your side or coming to your rescue, hope is a forgotten symbol of the past, and death is a way of life.  
  
Wrong.  
  
Yes, oh yes, that constant wind beats upon the shuttered windows of cracking glass, but only in a vain attempt at getting in. Acceptance is all it searches for, not destruction as so many believe. If only the blind populous had eyes to see what they again and again are turning away. If only a few, small men grew tall - even if only for a breath - it would be enough.  
  
That is a small hope: 'if only...' But it is a hope - a destination - worth striving for.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Shadows dance upon the wall, falling in hues of greys and blues as they twirl about in the spaciously small room. There is a door and a window, but nothing else occupies this trifling space. Nothing except the seven haunting eyes peering out of the glass upon the pavement below.  
  
Biting cold rips through the cracks in the weathered walls, blowing in with the relentless wind. A heated breath produces silver mist from any who would dare to breathe, but the men keeping close watch on those in the parking lot quite a few stories down produce nothing.   
  
Nothing.  
  
"Looks like our hired help won't be getting their payment." a nasal, humored voice states, its owner's jade eyes following the path of an easily disregarded car as it squeals off into the night.  
  
"Hmph." Brad Crawford admonishes, eyeing the red-head at his side. "Pay attention to the real importance of tonight, would you? We have to know what we may be facing in days to come."  
  
Lined up as bell-tower guardians, Schwartz continues to observe the commotion below: Weiss meeting up with the greatest threat any shade of justice has yet to encounter.  
  
Nagi stands on Brad's left, his face pressed nearest to the glass, while Farfarello is on the opposite end beside Schuldrich. There is a heavy sense of expectancy in the crisp air; it has been a long time since any of them have had a taste of personified hatred, and the craving is inescapable.   
  
Nevertheless, one member never truly had an appetite for such things. (What threat could these women be to us...?) Nagi wonders. (They allowed those men to leave unharmed, and even with perfect opportunity to kill Weiss, they seem to be waiting for something. But what...? What else is it about them? What isn't Crawford telling us...?)  
  
(You think too much, kid.) an unwanted guest speaks into the boy's mind. (Don't question the means. It's a waste of breath, and you don't have any to spare.)  
  
Nagi grimaces, leaning back from the window to glare at Schuldrich as he replies, speaking so only the two of them can hear. (Can't I think *anything* without you listening in?) His mind's voice asks brutally. (You always defend Crawford. Are you his watch dog, making sure I don't betray him by thinking for myself?)  
  
The young boy's mind is filled with coarse laughter at this, and Schuldrich's shining eyes prove it is difficult for him to keep his amusement from being voiced aloud. (That girl's made you soft.) he taunts. (And here I thought you were about as tender and smooth-skinned as they come long before she tickled your boyhood itch.)  
  
Gathering all his mental strength into blocking the red-head's cynical speech from his mind, Nagi turns back to the window. He cannot bear another moment of the same conversation. He is Schwartz, and Schwartz is his life. Period.   
  
Still, as he watches the events below him, his tortured mind unwillingly wonders...  
  
(What will come of this...?)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
What will be an end to this? What will be a beginning?  
  
Icicles creep up the spine, for the wind refuses to settle. The sharp breeze blows on, unmerciful, freezing every particle of air and leaving none fit to breathe. It is as if all question of reality has been cut off before the buzzer, and two conflicting teams are taking the first step towards revolution.  
  
"Dispel whatever assumptions you have, Abyssinian. We are not what you think."  
  
The voice is smooth and low-toned, hypnotizing. Aiko holds her katana nonchalantly at her side, only feet from Ran as he stays poised dangerously with his still drawn. The scene unfolds like an old movie real, with the backdrop - the other paired off opposites - remaining motionless, lifeless, and questioning for their next move.  
  
"You interfered with our mission and ambushed us into an attack." Ran replies through clenched teeth. "I don't care *what* you are, or what you think you know about us! You have no right to -"  
  
"Don't you ever just shut up and listen?!" A high-pitched and annoyed voice interrupts, sounding from the short, young sprite nearly hidden behind Omi as she continues to hold him in place. "Aiko's trying to talk to you guys, ya big meanie!"  
  
Humored pause. "Sokoke..." the calm red-head speaks in a warning tone, addressing the miffed brunette. "The air is too unsettled. Let's play it their way...if that's how it must be."  
  
In answer, the girl grunts disappointedly, hating to be corrected.  
  
(I thought her name was Amaya...?) Omi ponders, forgetting for a moment to fear whatever sharp object she has pressed into his backbone. (Sokoke...? Isn't that a -)  
  
Sudden movement in front of him breaks the stillness, ripping Omi's thoughts away. Aiko and Ran are no longer stationary. Now, they are once again locked in steel pressure, after the supposedly peaceful, red-haired young woman jerked into action.  
  
Cling! Sharp sounds of metal on metal pierce the air, stilling the breeze.  
  
"Is this all you understand...Abyssinian?" Aiko whispers, pale faces so uncomfortably close. "I had hoped we could talk this through, but I knew it would take a bit more incentive for you to calmly listen to what I have to say."   
  
Ran's eyes penetrate with fury in reply. (I knew there was something about them...they know who we are...)  
  
"We confronted you here tonight for a reason." Aiko continues, straining her weapon against Ran's as they sink to the ground from matched strength. "We let those men go for a reason, as well. We only chose this way of confronting you because violence is your way of life, but that does not mean we are a threat to you. Are you willing to listen to what we have to say without shedding blood tonight, or must this become more difficult before you'll see reason?"  
  
"Who *are* you?!" Ran bellows.  
  
With a last burst of force, Aiko thrusts him away from her, sending him tumbling to the ground. A smile plays on her lips as she watches the young man's sword slip from his hand, leaving him vulnerable. She crouches down next to his fallen, surprised form then, her voice still perfectly collected as she speaks.  
  
"You keep asking the same question, even after I've given you answers. I think I know what you are waiting to hear." She bends her head close to his, and Ran's body stiffens with uncertainty as she whispers. "I am Korat...as you are Abyssinian. I too have a mission, and the same man you once believed in is the one who sent me to complete it."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The restless night hovers suspended and incomplete. Whatever Schwartz expected to see has most definately fallen short.  
  
Miraculously, the wind appears to have been pacified, no longer whipping harsh comments at the walls. Of the four men remaining before the window, few, oh so many few, truly understand what it is they are watching begin.  
  
(Words...why do they choose words over action...?) the dark, scrambled mind of a lost lamb wonders, his golden eye trained on the sight through the glass. (Idle hands do so much more damage than idle words...)  
  
Stretching out his mind into the sacred spaces of his team mates - as he so often does - Schuldrich catches the peculiar thoughts from Farfarello, grinning with the taste of it. He could always count on Farfie to add a dose of philosophy to every craving for bloodshed.  
  
(That's my Farf...) the German smirks to himself. (...a hell of a lot more frightening when he's calm, and constantly questioning why anyone would do anything unless it's to injure the invulnerable hand of God. Hehe...) he turns slightly, looking his other team mates over with deep penitration. (Then there's Naoe...)  
  
(What does this have to do with us...? Why doesn't Crawford tell us everything that's going on...?)  
  
(...still doubting with questions he shouldn't ask.) Schu grins, mental laughter purring throught the stillness of unheard voices. (And of course...my dear Bradley...)  
  
(......)  
  
(...blocking me out, as always.)  
  
Devilishly, Schuldrich traces the American's face with his eyes, devouring any hint of what the man may be thinking. Brad Crawford is always a mystery, which is what makes him so appealing and attracting to the smirking red-head. He loves being held in suspense, a pleasure he all too often is robbed of.  
  
Noticing Schu's gaze, Brad flicks his eyes to the side, frowning at this obvious invasion. But, just then, an idea strikes him, and causes him to smile despite himself. "You've just volunteered yourself, Schuldrich." he states with smug authority.  
  
"Volunteered?"  
  
Brad's smirk grows. "Volunteered." he restates. "You're going to go down there and retrieve our package."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The one thing forgotten about down there, was the unretrieved package.   
  
Dirt-layered, brown paper fades into the outlines of the concrete, playing tricks on the mind. Not that it really would have mattered; more important conflicts are in progress, causing those involved to completely forget the once important object ever existed.  
  
(They flew in out of no where - with weapons - just to talk?!) Hidaka Ken's frantic thoughts whirl in uncontrollable patterns, stiff and on-guard as he remains on his back upon the cold pavement.   
  
Kei Nori, dusk-colored tendrils of hair calmed on her shoulders with the ceasing wind, still hovers above him, her staff poised inches from the young assassin's chest.   
  
"Ready to listen then?" Aiko asks lightly, standing up from her low position beside the fallen, red-haired leader. "I know you think we are rather suspicious, especially considering how we have chosen to introduce ourselves tonight, but it couldn't be helped." Fluid motion stretches out a naked, white hand in assistance to Ran, just as that same hand had been offered to him earlier in the day. "Well...Abyssinian?"  
  
Where has the chilled, fiercely driving wind escaped to? Suddenly the air is almost too sweltering to breathe. Nonetheless, with hesitant defeat Ran accepts those gentle fingers with his leather-clad hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.  
  
"Talk then." his deep, embittered tone demands, violet eyes remaining narrowed on the wisteria irises of the woman standing before him.  
  
"Back down, girls." Aiko states instantly at this acceptance, her authority laced with motherly undertone as she addresses her teammates with a smile.  
  
On cue, weapons and intimidation fall away.   
  
The curvaceous blonde releases Youji swiftly, slipping her dagger back into its place at her hip as she steps up next to him, while he takes this opportunity to eye her curiously, instinctively breathing a sigh of relief that he is no longer under the threat of her weapon.   
  
Amaya, the petite brunette behind Omi, does much the same, and as she comes parallel with her young counterpart, he finally notices what weapon she had been holding him stable with. A leather gauntlet-like covering forms over the girl's arm from her wrist to her elbow, and fixed on top is a miniature, detachable cross-bow. Inquisitively, Omi finds instant fascination with it, but his brilliant, cobalt eyes drift to the lock of silver from her temple with even more curiousity. He hadn't taken as much notice to it before, but in the light of the silver moon, it shines with etherial wonder.   
  
Between those two pairs, Ken begins to pick himself up from the ground after Nori reluctantly steps back, offering him no hint of aid. The simple, wooden weapon of choice she holds so maliciously is oddly plain, making him wonder if there is more to it than she is allowing them to see.  
  
"To begin..." Aiko starts, tilting her head in a shimmer of crimson waves. "...what we shall tell you is the truth, because we have no reason to lie." Slowly and with purpose, she circles around Ran, tossing her gaze out to the other assassins. "We share quite a few similarities, you know...Abyssinian, Siberian, Bombay, and Balinese? Why don't I introduce us to you properly? As I've said, I am Korat, though you met me before as Rosuto Aiko. *This* little elf..." she continues playfully, gesturing to the emerald-eyed girl beside Omi. "...is Sokoke. Or, as I'm sure she introduced herself earlier, Yawarakai Amaya. Next, the sour-looking one near Siberian there, is Somali. Kei Nori, otherwise, though it will take quite a bit to warm up to her if you want the privilege of calling her that."  
  
Ken, in reflex, lets out a confirming huff at this, eyeing the girl who is so gladly a few feet away from him, though no amount of space between them could be enough for either one.   
  
(Even if someone actually wanted to melt that ice-princess...) the hot-headed brunette thinks harshly. (...there'd be nothing worth knowing underneath.)  
  
Similar as well as not so similar thoughts echo randomly from each person standing awkwardly on the pavement of the empty parking lot, streaming easily, too easily perhaps, into the clutches of the eager night wind.  
  
With movement exceedingly quick for even the sharpest eyes, a figure has slipped behind a nearby tree, and is peering out at the mismatched group, happily absorbing every wanton word of mind thrown his way.  
  
(Delicious...) purrs the thoughts of this newcommer, with lips curling back slightly from sensation, as the German tosses a stray strand of sunset hair from his green eyes. (I'll have to volunteer more often.) Blurred feet transition to another tree, his hungry mind reaching out. (Oh, how I'd love to play a bit...but Bradley'll be in a hell of a pissy mood tonight if I loose that book.)   
  
Now that he has positioned himself accordingly, the forgotten package is even closer to his ready hands than to any of the others listening in on Aiko's words.  
  
"And finally..." the red-head finishes, smiling towards her well-endowed, yet somewhat shorter, friend. "...the lovely creature beside Balinese there, is fittingly known as Burmese. Chin Hiromi, otherwise, and believe me she is -"   
  
"Quite a nice piece of ass, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Dangerous pause.  
  
Schuldrich arrogantly steps out from behind his hiding place on this brave comment, completely at ease as he makes his presence known, while the others all tense in alert, reaching for their weapons.   
  
"I'd take that back, if I were you!" Hiromi bellows angrily, her dagger held threateningly in nimble fingers. She takes a step towards Schu then, but doesn't get very far before a firm grip on her shoulder holds her back.  
  
"Careful, gorgeous. He's more trouble than he's worth."  
  
Gold-flecked, emerald eyes narrow past a misplaced pair of shades as Youji gently and sternly holds the blonde in place. Though it has been nearly a year since Weiss' last battle with Schwartz, he recognizes the German red-head all too well.  
  
"It's Schuldrich!" Omi states in a frantic whisper, whipping out his darts protectively.  
  
All of them are stiff, eyeing the grinning antagonist with great apprehension. Aiko especially seems caught off guard by this unexpected appearance, her usually passive features filled with faltering panic.   
  
Ran's suspicions, however, instantly stray. There is something far too coincidental about all this. "Fools! They were planning this all along!" he cries, his arm aching to reach for the katana at his feet. "They're in league with Schwartz!"  
  
Aiko's ever-present smile fades even more, but any retort she might offer to dispel this belief is cut off by glorious laughter sounding from the odd-man-out beside the tree.  
  
"The truth behind these vixens is alot more interesting than that, Fujimiya." Schuldrich grins. "But, as much as I'd love to discuss it with you, I really must be on my way." He reaches down to the ground then with a long, slender arm, snatching up the forgotten package from the pavement. "And by the way..." he adds, smirking devilishly at the female red-head who is still at a loss for words. "...thanks for getting rid of the middle men. I'm always grateful for a little extra cash."  
  
Just then, a screech of tires and flash of bright lights bursts from around the corner of the Kokaido building, and a black car is suddenly speeding towards them. Tinted windows prevent the group from seeing who is in the vehicle, but as the driver's window rolls down, all recognize the figure behind the wheel.  
  
"Get in." Brad Crawford commands, pulling up behind Schuldrich. Obediently, the grinning German rushes to the passenger side with a flurry, the package tucked safely in his arms.  
  
All are speechless. The events of the night are passing in a blur.  
  
Brad passes his bronzed eyes over the oddly-matched crew, pushing his glasses back on to the bridge of his nose - having slipped slightly, as they often do - with a steady hand. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." the American states with a twisted smile, looking Aiko over with intrigue. Then, moving his gaze to the hardened-features of Fujimiya Ran, Brad's smile twists even further. "As for you...we'll meet again...Weiss."  
  
With a roar of the engine, sounding more like the howl of a hell-beast than the purr of a kitten, the car drives off within a cloud of upturned dirt, leaving Brad's final thoughts to linger and fall back hauntingly to the ground.  
  
(She's the one...I'm certain of it.)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The night had barely begun...and they were well aware.  
  
Shining high in the midnight sky, the moon glitters with silver light, casting eerie shadows into every corner and onto every looming wall. The darkness whispers with the last traces of wind, calling, longing, caressing the window panes of "Kitty in the House" as it strains to reach the heated air within. Of course, the air is heated for a reason.  
  
"Are you out of your mind inviting them here?! They ambushed us!!"  
  
Row after row of residents down the street are pleasantly sleeping the hours away, but in the cramped basement of the neighborhood's favorite flower shop, every particle of life is wide awake.  
  
"We're *in* the room, ya know?! You don't have to be such a jerk about this!"  
  
Hidaka Ken and the memorable, little brunette with large, green eyes are nose to nose. Well...her upturned nose to his extremely tensed neck, to be more accurate.   
  
"Calm down, sweetheart." Youji intervenes sternly, grabbing the girl's elbow as he pulls her away from Ken. "We're the ones who allowed you down here, so I suggest you be more respectful."  
  
Amaya, glaring up into the pair of emerald eyes so similar to her own, wrenches her arm away from him, just as another raised temper comes to her rescue.  
  
"Don't you touch her!!" Nori warns, stepping swiftly from where she had been scowling against the wall, her navy curls bouncing against her shoulders as she stalks closer to the group. "It's just like someone of your capacity to be reprimanding her for something your own team mate did first!"   
  
"Sure, attack *me*, you ice witch!!" Ken roars, clenching his fist and inadvertently releasing the claws he has yet to take off. "What the hell were you doing out there tonight, anyway!? Some act of self-righteous bullshit is my bet!!  
  
"That's enough!" a frighteningly deep voice shouts above the rest. "We want answers, not arguments!"  
  
Ran - being the last to climb down the stairs into Weiss' basement headquarters - is standing just at the foot of the steps with sulfuric acid burning in his violet eyes. Though Omi had been the one to suggest they gather here to talk things out, Ran had surprisingly not objected, even thought it did violate many of their codes of security. Taking this into account, however, he is not about to lose an opportunity at uncovering the truth behind these women, especially not over some petty bickering.  
  
"Now, I want you to tell us everything." the red-head continues, looking to each member of the mysterious group, Fluesternd, though his eyes linger most on their apparent leader, who is leaning against the wall just to his left. "What gives you the right to not only let our targets escape, but to leave us open and vulnerable for attack from our most dangerous enemy? Tell me that. Or don't you have an answer?"  
  
Since leaving the Kokaido Factory behind, neither Aiko nor Nori - save the blue-haired young woman's recent outburst - had said a word. It was awkward how the common smile upon the pale-faced leader vanishing made everything feel wrong somehow. Even now, her face is blank, as if deep in thought.  
  
"That's it! I've had enough of these ego-trips!"  
  
The erupted voice, fitting right in with the mood of the night, has come from Hiromi on the other side of the room. Hands on her distinctly-shaped hips, she stalks forward.  
  
"If you want answers, then act like it! What have we done to deserve being treated like this?!"  
  
"What have you done?!" Youji retorts incredulously. "Well, toots, if I remember correctly, you gave us one fine good morning earlier today! Not to mention...oh...uhhh...threatening us with sharp objects!!"  
  
"Well, from the looks of things, I'd say you deserved it!"  
  
"Oh, yeah?!" Youji throws right back. "At least we know how to do our job, as long as a bunch of brainless beauty queens aren't messing things up!"  
  
"Listen, you incompetent little miscreant!" Nori jumps in. "If you weren't so full of your own precious, little lives you would know what was going on by now!"  
  
Seeing an opening, Ken can't possibly let that slide. "The less we know about you, the better, if you ask me!"  
  
"Don't you dare talk to her like that!" Hiromi barks in Nori's defense.  
  
"And what are you gonna do about it?!" Ken replies, just as severely.  
  
"Rearrange that pretty-boy face of yours, that's what!"  
  
"Umm...minna...maybe we should -" Omi tries, having stayed out of the impossible situation up till now...  
  
"I'd like to see you try!"  
  
...but not being too successful at finally trying to break things up.  
  
"Bite me!" Hiromi snaps.   
  
This gives Youji a very welcome idea for rebuttal. "Don't ask for it if you don't mean it, *sweetheart*!"  
  
"Stop calling me that!!!"  
  
The pressure continues to build and build until one might expect the walls would blow apart from the stress. Harsh voices and stinging words continue to grow, until finally, one of the many so consumed in heated rantings realizes she has had enough.  
  
"SHUT UP!!!!!"  
  
Silence. Not a muffling, stagger of voices until the air goes still, but a sudden and complete cut of sound. Frozen, angry expressions send piercing gazes at Amaya, who has so rudely broken up their invigorating fight.   
  
Haughtily, the short brunette tosses her shimmering hair over her shoulder with a flicker of movement. "That's more like it." she smiles, rather pleased with herself.  
  
Not even slightly amused by her cheerful countenance, Ran turns to her sourly, opening his mouth to speak. "..........." But nothing comes out. Not a peep. In fearful wonder, he tries again, but it is as if his voice isn't there at all anymore.   
  
Realizing the apparent predicament, the others in the room attempt to talk again as well...with the same lack of success. None of them have a voice.  
  
"You can't talk?" Omi asks curiously, instantly taken aback by the fact that he still can. "Hey, how come my voice isn't gone?"  
  
Grinning in come-hither fashion, Amaya walks over to him, hugging his arm as she slips hers around it. "Cause I don't want it to be." she answers simply. "Besides, you were the only one not being a dork about all this."  
  
Indignantly, Youji and Ken glare at her, desperately wishing for the ability to speak what is on their minds at the moment. Nori and Hiromi, on the other hand, wear expressions that show they have most likely been through a situation like this before.  
  
"Errm...arigato...I think..." Omi states, smiling sheepishly as a rush of color reddens his round face.  
  
"My pleasure, Kitten." she beams. Then, turning to Aiko, who has been watching the events with a half-smile of mild amusement, she continues. "Now, let's get down to business. Aiko, if you're through moping over how you didn't know Schwartz would show up tonight, could you please explain what's going on to these twerps already?"  
  
Expectant faces turn towards the eerily quiet red head, some overcome with growing fright, while others merely appear annoyed.   
  
Lifting her delicate chin to the crowd, gentle laughter escapes rose lips, brightening the young woman's ghostly features, and proving she, too, has a usable voice. "Gomen, Sokoke...Amaya...I'm alright." Aiko begins, pushing herself from the wall with a faded smile. "You know how I hate unwelcome surprises. However, an explanation is long overdue. We have already been introduced, so I suppose I should start with our...idiosyncrasies. To answer the question I'm sure you are all thinking right now, it is no common phenomenon that Amaya stole your voices. She has a unique ability, you see, allowing her extraordinary control over sound. So, technically, this little kitty hasn't got your tongues. Rather, she disrupted the sound waves around you."  
  
"But if she did that, they wouldn't be able to hear anything either, right?" Omi comments, inconspicuously attempting to slip his arm from Amaya's firm grip on his own.  
  
Turning to him with a profound volume of understanding, Aiko answers. "You'd think so, but she is adept enough to only cut off the sound waves in front of their mouths."  
  
"You have no idea how long it took me to perfect this trick" Amaya adds in a merry tone. "And I'm mighty scary when I get frustrated with something."  
  
Omi giggles lightly, and has to admit, though she is somewhat abrasive, there is something so comforting about Amaya's genuine presence, as it is with nearly all of these odd women.  
  
(They're like some strange cross between us and Schwartz, with weapons *and* powers.) Omi ponders inquisitively. (I wonder if the same is true for all of them...)  
  
"Nori and I also have...abilities of sorts, but Hiromi is the exception among us." Aiko states, inadvertently answering Omi's unasked question. "Although, Hiromi *is* remarkably fast. Most likely, she is even swifter than our timely German friend. As for Nori, her power is especially unusual. As long as she makes some form of physical contact, she can extract the truth from anyone. Thoughts, feelings, repressed memories, anything which is locked within a person's mind. It sounds somewhat like telepathy, I know, but it is a bit more complicated than that. To conclude with myself." the red-head declares with a hint of apprehension. "I'm a natural pyro-"  
  
"Maniac?" Omi cuts in unthinkingly, his bright, blue eyes widening in wonder.  
  
"Kinetic." she corrects. "Pyrokinetic. I can create fire - manipulate it. I also have some theories on using my ability to heal somehow - minor wounds at least - but I haven't put them to the test."  
  
(Wow...this is alot to take in...) Ken ponders, having thankfully cooled down during Aiko's explanation. (Just this morning they were nothing but a group of odd, coffee shop girls, and now they have weapons and freaky powers? What does this all mean...)  
  
(...and what will it lead to?) Ran wonders critically, absorbing all he has heard with a logical grain of salt. (We know who they are and a small amount of what they are capable of, but what is their purpose...? Why...)  
  
(...are they here, anyway?) Youji questions, smirking slightly. He can't help enjoying the idea of a female group so similar to their own. One that, hopefully, won't try to kill them the way the last one did. (I could let my imagination run away on me, but I highly doubt they came to seduce us and confiscate our flower shop while secretly stealing Schwartz' plans to take over the world. Although...I certainly wouldn't mind the first part. Hmmm...I wonder if they...)  
  
(...*are* a threat.) Omi speculates, his mind wandering right along with the minds of his teammates. (I know they got the jump on us before, but I don't think they've gone to all this trouble and explained so much about themselves just to turn around and kill us. So...)  
  
"Why are you here?" Omi asks gently, hardly demanding. "You've told us all this, but not why? Does it have something to do with Schwartz?"  
  
Silent pleas of curiosity ring from expectant faces; the million yen question waiting to be answered.  
  
"Somewhat." Aiko speaks softly, her violet eyes drifting into thought. "In truth, our whole purpose began with them. However, thanks to a certain man, *you* are also an important factor in our mission. You know the man I'm talking about. Well...you knew him, anyway. He once promised me he would tell me his real name if I proved him wrong about something, but he died before I got the chance. I called him what everyone called him..." she pauses, standing right in front of Ran now with serious, saddened eyes. "...Botan..."  
  
The blood rushes from Ran's already paled face, a gripping wave of nausea crashing down on him. "Botan..." Ran repeats in a whisper, not realizing the miracle of his returned vocal cords as his firmly folded arms fall gradually to his side. "You knew him...? Then...then you are members of Kritiker -"  
  
"No." Aiko interrupts with finality. Her smile has dissipated, leaving behind only a pair of longing, desperately pained pupils which gaze mercilessly into her false, mirror image. "We are not members of Kritiker, but we do have some connection. There is so much you must know, Abyssinian, but I'm afraid it cannot all be explained in a night. You deserve a little time. At least, a good night's sleep before we talk any more. So, for now, just know this..." Turning grandly, Aiko faces the whole of the room, addressing everyone. "...we are not your enemy. You may find it difficult to accept what we have planned for you, but our purpose is more crucial than you know. We are going to save you, White Hunters. We must...before it is too late..."  
  
By now, Amaya has released Omi's delicate arm of her own accord, her jovial mood slipping away with the seriousness of Aiko's words. The air is heavy and heated with burning ice leaving stains of breath on the windows.  
  
Riddles. Fate works in riddles and whispers. After all, God is watching our lives in a manner we cannot comprehend, witnessing every moment all at once and constantly. Life is a puzzling thing to us, because to Him, it is all so very simple.   
  
"Give the rest of them their voices back, Sokoke. It is time to say goodnight."  
  
Without another word, Aiko heads for the stairs, a rampant Nori and flustered Hiromi trailing behind her, as Amaya merely tosses her eyes over the room before joining them.  
  
"Hold on!" Ken calls out, with his thankfully restored voice, rushing to the railing as the strange, young women begin to climb the stairs. "You can't just leave after all that!"  
  
"What are we supposed to think about this?" Youji adds, walking up behind his forceful friend. "You're a bunch of mystical guardian angels sent to save our souls or something, but you're not going to give us any straight answers?"  
  
With a satisfied grin, Hiromi leans over the railing, poised halfway up the staircase. "That about sums it up, *sweetheart*."  
  
Youji scowls, stumped for a clever reply.  
  
"But..." Omi begins, taking faltering steps in the others' direction. "...when are we going to see you again? When are you going to explain the rest of it...what's behind all this?"  
  
The women are silent, looking to their leader for the answers. Aiko's thoughts are planted across the room, however, focused in on a blank-faced Fujimiya. "We're right across the street." she states gently, keeping her eyes trained on Ran. "As for answers, perhaps tomorrow, but I think you have more pressing questions to address right now. Like why your dear Persia gave you a false mission tonight, though his little messenger didn't bother to warn you it was a fake."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ken asks cautiously, with narrowed, turquoise eyes.  
  
"It means what it means." Aiko replies, without hesitation. "Why do you think we allowed those men to escape? We let them go tonight because they were not what you thought. It is true they stole an ancient text from the Tosho Museum - the one Schwartz unfortunately now possesses - but they did *not* kill anyone. Not a one of those men have ever hurt a fly. They are just your average thieves for hire who got caught up in something way over their heads."  
  
This last minute information is outrageous, stinging the members of Weiss with disbelief.  
  
"How do you know so much...?" Omi inquires, not daring to believe what she has said is the truth. "How can you be sure -"  
  
"Oyasumi, Bombay...all of you." Aiko cuts him off, ignoring the pressing questions asked of her. "Your words are not for me, but for those who wish to keep you in the dark. Though I am sure they will be available to answer those questions quite soon indeed. Till next time...Weiss."  
  
Once again, the four women begin to climb the stairs, but Aiko only barely reaches the top before they are called to once again.  
  
"Korat, was it?" Ran's deep, cryptic voice inquires, stopping them. "I'll accept 'till next time' for now. But...until then...I will be watching you."  
  
"And I, Abyssinian..." Aiko answers swiftly, swinging open the door as she calls down the stairs. "...will be watching you."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
(What would you do if you knew I was watching you...Ran-niisan...?)  
  
The complex air of "Kitty in the House's" poorly lit basement has melted the ice with burning questions, and cooled the fire with small traces of refreshing understanding. Queries answered have only created more to agonize over, and the dragging ache at heart is more than anyone standing stunned on the cold, hard floor can bear. Especially in the case of the lone girl who is feeling that chill even more bitterly than the rest. It seeps into her legs while she crouches behind a padded chair only feet from a small desk and computer on the far end of the room.  
  
Fujimiya Aya has been eaves-dropping tonight, as well as disobeying her commanding brother once again. (What would you say if you knew I was down here?) she wonders, watching her brother and his friends as they trail up the steps and out of the room. (If you knew I had been down here a million times before, even though you had locked it while you were away, would you still fool yourself into believing I don't know everything about who and what you are?) Aching legs creak as the persistent girl stands, sighing heavily. (Those women...I think they want what I want...to have you back, the way you once were. Oh, God, please...please tell me they can do what I can't do alone. Give...give me my oniichan back...please...)  
  
Gentle hands form into desperate fists, whitening from the pressure. Something has been set in motion tonight. Something unstoppable. And though difficult to grasp at first, it is something so colorlessly beautiful.  
  
  
*****A/N***** Whoa, lot of explaining in this one, but hopefully you understand a little more about what is going on, and more will be known as the story progresses. Please keep reading and reviewing. I really think I capture who these boys are, and if you aren't too keen on original characters, just pick the one that reminds you the most of yourself and imagine it is you. That's what I always do. :-) 


	5. 5

*****5*****  
  
  
How do you define a nightmare?  
  
Are they merely dark and frightening dreams, terrorizing the innocent while they sleep? Are they subconscious outlets for our most primitive emotions? Are they some twisted form of punishment we have no control over? Do they even have a definition at all? Or...does a dream become a nightmare solely through our own misunderstood interpretation?  
  
Depending on whether you dream in color or black and white, your overall perception may differ while dreaming. Colors are brutal, and they burn more firmly into your all-forgotten memory than those less apparent tinges ever could. Shades of grey fade into the background, because they are less striking, less powerful.  
  
Given this description, one might expect all hues of grey to follow suit; existing in the world as somber, disregarded creatures, which make no impact on the world.  
  
If you believe this...you are wrong.  
  
Luckily, nightmares and dreams played out like those archaic, 50's television shows, leave less of an imprint. How unfortunate then, how unfair, for the many of us who see endless tints of rainbows and paint sets in brilliant colors.   
  
It almost makes you wish for grey...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The air breathes in as ice, burning his throat with each gasp for mortally precious oxygen. Misted vision depicts a hazy world, frozen and impossible to define. There is nothing but cold, a feeling of emptiness, and the billowing fog in front of him. Whether he is standing, sitting, or even floating, he cannot be sure. His body doesn't exist here anymore.  
  
Brad Crawford is lost, his analytical mind frenzied in the search for understanding. This place is so familiar, and yet he cannot remember the last time he was here. The chill, the mist, the transcended feeling of weightlessness as if he is merely a spirit searching for something he misplaced foolishly long ago.  
  
(Where am I...?) he wonders, hearing his thoughts echo strangely back at him. (Is this the world we have created...? Is it over...? Did we succeed...?)  
  
"Anyone here?!" his dreading voice calls into the unseen, emitting from a mouth that isn't truly there. "Schuldrich?! Farfarello!? Nagi!!! Nagi, answer me!"  
  
Nothing responds save the sound of the wind swirling the clouded air around him. The fog is a prism of different shades - silvers and blues, reds and yellows - instead of being bland and colorless as it should be. It is almost as if the very air is trying to paint a picture for him to see. A picture he forgot he once knew.   
  
Listening intently for some delayed reply that might filter its way through the dense atmosphere, Brad's sharp ears begin to pick up a silky, haunting noise. A chirping which sounds far too much like...  
  
Laughter.   
  
No, not the nasal, taunting laughter of a certain, German red-head. Not *that* lingering sound. This laughter is melodic and beautiful, like a young girl's exclamation of joy. It is suddenly everywhere, bouncing off shadows and fog as it surrounds Brad's entire form - whatever form that may be.  
  
"Who...who's there!!?" he screams, unable to move since he has no true legs with which to run away on. "Show yourself! Where...what's -"  
  
He stops. In front of him the mist is no longer thick and enclosing; it is thinning, fading, revealing the hint of something...someone else there. The image is so blurred, so indistinct, Brad believes that wherever he is he must not have his glasses. Even as the image clears with the drifting fog, only a ludicrously few amount of sensations etch their way into his memory: That unearthly call of musical laughter, so eerily lovely, though it stings his chest as the air continues to sting his lungs. And...a final, brief view of long, curled hair...  
  
Black. Everything is abruptly thrown into darkness.  
  
Vaguely, Brad becomes aware of his eyes being closed, and once again feels the comfort of his physical body. With a start, the American snaps open those coppery-brown eyes, feeling a sharp intake of warm air rush over his raw throat. He doesn't need to pass his gaze over his surroundings to remember where he truly is; he already knows. Safely tucked in bed, and drenched in a cold sweat from the dream.  
  
(Not again...) his still fuzzy mind begins frantically. (...the same damn nightmare, the same picture and feeling...what does it mean!?!)  
  
(What does it mean indeed...?)  
  
The door to Brad's room - a sensible space secluded down the hallway from the others' - is cracked open just enough for a particularly glinting, jade eye to daringly peer inside.  
  
(What else is in your dreams, Bradley...?) Schuldrich wonders, reaching out with his mind into the now vulnerable and open thoughts of his leader, but keeping his own presence unknown. (...painted fog...cold...a delicious out-of-body experience...and...) he recounts, grasping all he can before Brad instinctively rebuilds his barriers. (...curls?)  
  
Boom.  
  
Like the mental echo of a door slamming shut, Schu is thrust back into his own mind, awkwardly stumbling away from the door after the jolting break of contact. He is overwhelmed with dizziness, breathing deeply to compensate for the shock to his system.  
  
(Damn!) he thinks in a brief burst of anger, glaring at the door. Nonetheless, he composes himself quickly, walking in long strides down the hall before Brad can reprimand him for spying. (So brutal and mistrusting, Bradley.) his thoughts begin anew, bringing a familiar smirk to his impish features. (What are you hiding...?)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The most passionate emotions almost always remain in hiding.   
  
After all, it is foolishly dangerous to keep them out in the open. Humanity immerses itself in humility, not because it feels a need to be humble, but because it feels a need to mask the truths it is too timid to reveal.  
  
Broom bristles scratch ceaselessly upon already cleanly swept pavement. Gentle fingers continue to move the handle back and forth, unaware that their work is complete. The owner of those soft-skinned hands has his attention focused elsewhere; trained curiously across the street.  
  
"Omi, stop sweeping the cement off the sidewalk and help me with these customers!" Hidaka Ken calls desperately, surrounded by a barrage of anxious school girls flashing meager change for flimsy flowers. Their true intentions for frequenting the shop are clear enough for anyone to figure out. "Did you hear me? Omi?!"  
  
The younger boy starts, jerking his head back over his shoulder. "Huh? Did you say something, Ken-kun?"  
  
Frantically, Ken finishes handing out the bundles of flowers to each girl, motioning them over to Youji at the counter to pay. Once free from those all too eager hands, the brunette looks to Omi disgruntledly. "Baka! I could've used your help is what I said." he grunts, stalking over to the bright-eyed boy. "Daydreaming again? It's not going to make last night any clearer."  
  
Omi's forehead crinkles in contempt and he tosses his broom to the ground. "I can't help it! This is so frustrating! We can't even keep an eye on them; they don't have any windows except for the little triangles of glass on the door."  
  
"I know." Ken replies more softly, shaking his slight indignancy away. "Ran says we just have to go about things like nothing's changed. Right." he adds sarcastically. "Easy for him to say."  
  
An uncomfortable silence seeps between them as both boys allow their gaze to linger on the building across the street. Somewhere inside are answers to questions they never imagined they would have to consider.  
  
"Ken-kun...what do you think they want with us?"  
  
"I don't know." Ken replies, turning to his friend with a reassuring smile. "I don't think they want to chop us up into little pieces or run us out of business, though. That's something."  
  
Clumsily, Omi laughs at his comrade's try for lightening the mood. "Yeah, that is something, I guess." he smiles, blue eyes brightening slightly, only to be shadowed once again. "Say, have you seen Aya-chan this morning?" he asks, suddenly taking note of the indigo-haired girl's absence. "And Ran, he was only down when we opened. Where did he go? Are they off somewhere together?"  
  
Ken's face darkens as he turns back towards the shop, looking up at the windows which loom above him. Silhouetted behind a tightly closed shade in the one farthest to the right, is the outline of a stiff and frigid figure.  
  
(A pillar of ice...) the dark-haired, young man imagines, whimsically bitter.  
  
"No, they're not together. He's been up in his room all morning, watching them." Ken speaks aloud, expressing his words in an unascertainable tone. "I haven't seen Aya, though. I wonder where she is..."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
(There she is...)  
  
Warm rays of sunlight brighten the ground with glorious light, polishing the golden-green leaves of the many trees that surround the quaint, little clearing. A powerful scent of cherry blossoms saturates the air, and the breeze carries a few of those pink petals along in its relentless cycle.  
  
Seated in the center of the field inside the line of trees, is a frail-looking young girl with turquoise hair and eyes. She is clutching a tattered, stuffed bunny to her chest while she rocks oddly back and forth upon the ground. Her mind is consumed with so many heart-breaking thoughts, she doesn't even realize she is being watched.  
  
(So lonely, dear Nanami. Such a troubled, little girl.)  
  
Poised carefully behind the trunk of a broad tree, Rosuto Aiko watches the peculiar girl with interest and sympathy. Having left "Kitten's Cafe" before it opened, she had merely thrown on a simple, button-down dress which she always seems to wear when her main concern is comfort. It is pale yellow, short-sleeved, and flows down to her ankles with slits up both sides. Crimson tresses fall long and loose down the back of the soft fabric, and her caring, motherly smile is planted gently on her face.  
  
(The poor thing...) Aiko pities, slipping out of her hiding place as she approaches the girl from behind. (...just listen to her...)  
  
"Rabbi-chan...do you think...he'll come back today...?" a fragmented, pitiful voice asks, her words traveling on the light breeze. "I know it hasn't been very long, but...I don't like...being alone...and you don't talk back to me...not really..."  
  
(Darling girl...you're just a child, aren't you...?)  
  
"I wish...I had someone...to talk to..."  
  
Aiko is positioned just behind the aqua-haired young woman, nearly peering over the girl's shoulder as her low-toned voice replies. "Wish granted."  
  
Startled, the somber girl jumps up from the ground, whirling around as she reaches for the ornamental umbrella at her feet. Eyes wide and filled with fear, she points the contraption at Aiko defensively, a sharp spike protruding from the top. Aiko, however, is a picture of calm.  
  
"Stay...stay away!" a shaking, high-pitched voice commands. "No one's supposed to know about this place. Wh...what do you want...?"  
  
Exuding a sense of ease, Aiko smiles warmly, remaining still so as to not frighten the girl further. "Do not be afraid of me, Nanami. I won't hurt you."  
  
"Nanami...?" the girl repeats vaguely, unthinkingly lowering her arm, while the other clutches her frayed bunny tightly. "But...my name's Toto."  
  
With steady, cautious steps, Aiko moves closer to the young woman, her firy hair sparkling like a thousand matches beneath the morning sun. No one could find her sinister; she is far too much the figure of a fairy-godmother, not a threat.  
  
"Your name wasn't always Toto." the red-head corrects. "Do you remember? Do you remember your life before Masafumi?"  
  
Toto is visibly disturbed by the basic reminder of her past with Schreient, and her umbrella has fallen back to the ground with a soundless thud. Ocean eyes drift into memory as she searches for the small specs of life before her world was consumed by the Takatori mind of corruption.  
  
"I remember...Papa was a bad man..." she answers with hesitant words, staring into space. "...he always talked about how he missed Mama so much...but I don't remember her...she...wait. Why...why do you wanna know? Who...who are you...?"  
  
As if she hasn't a care in the world, Aiko sits down amongst the flowers, allowing her pale-colored dress to fan over her crossed legs. "A friend, Nanami. I want to help you." Gracefully, she gestures for Toto to join her, pure kindness pouring from her violet eyes into pools of ease.  
  
(...she looks like the mean man from Weiss...) Toto imagines, carefully joining Aiko in the grass. (...but she isn't like him at all. She seems so nice, and...I don't wanna be alone...)  
  
"What's your name?" she asks curiously, a child-like sense of trust overpowering her fears. "How do you know me?"  
  
"My name is Aiko." the red-head begins simply. "And I know *you* because I also want to help your friend, Nagi."  
  
The glorious sound of that name animates Toto's features instantly with a look like a child on Christmas morning. "Nagi-kun!?! You know Nagi?!" she exclaims, dropping her stuffed rabbit in her lap as she clings to Aiko's arm.  
  
The kind-hearted red-head laughs melodiously. "I know quite a bit *about* him, but we haven't met yet, I'm afraid." she answers. "I thought it would be better if I got to know *you* first."  
  
Deflated, but still much more uplifted than she had been a few moments earlier, Toto crinkles her forehead inquisitively. "I don't understand. You want to help us? Help us how?"  
  
Taking Toto's hands from her arm, Aiko grasps them gently, a serious yet peaceful look overrunning her glowing features. "I'll answer your questions if you answer a few of mine. How about that?"  
  
Toto is slightly unsure, but consents with an affirming nod.  
  
"Wonderful. Now..." Aiko begins. "...tell me, how often does Nagi visit you?"  
  
"He used to all the time. Sometimes every other day." she replies instantly. "But...he won't be able to for awhile. Schwartz won't let him come. It's that horrible Crawford-san...he doesn't like me..."  
  
(Crawford...) Aiko restates in her mind.  
  
"It's awfully hard on you with Nagi being in Schwartz, isn't it?"  
  
Teal strands of glossy hair bounce in agreement as Toto nods, the most incredible, child-like pout playing on her lips.  
  
"I bet you would be alot happier if Nagi wasn't apart of them." the red-head continues, hints of a foreshadowed plan weaving into her tone. "If the two of you could be together all the time, you would be much happier, wouldn't you?"  
  
Once again, the young girl nods fiercely, gripping Aiko's hands with desperate zeal. "Is that what you've come to help with?" she asks excitedly. "Are you gonna get him to leave those mean men so we can live together like we promised?"  
  
"That's the plan." Aiko confirms with a growing smile. "At least part of it. My friends and I want to help *all* of Schwartz. We want to help them realize they don't need to be 'mean men' anymore. Do you understand?"  
  
The morning had begun with a relentless chill, light wind brisk enough to bite as Spring continues to push and peck its way back into the waking world. Now, happily, the sun's light is all the more warming, like the quilted blanket waiting by the fireplace to warm every good, little boy and girl after winter's play.   
  
"I think I understand." Toto replies with a smile, gently releasing Aiko's hands as she eyes the red-haired beauty in fascination. "Are you..." the girl begins then, unsure of her next question. "...are you...an angel...?"  
  
Passion warms the heart, and no passion stirs with more motherly comfort then true admiration, based not on falsity, but on inspired faith.  
  
Aiko is a vision in the morning sun, glowing with radiance from the inside out as much as from the rays of gold bathing her peaceful form upon the grass. It is her turn now to take hold of Toto's hands, gazing reverently into the young girl's eyes. "I suppose, in a way, I am. But I'm not the type of angel you're thinking of, Nanami. I only have one wing. One wing, just as you do, and just as everyone else in the world does, too."  
  
Toto is in awe, taking to heart every word.  
  
"We are all one-winged angels, you see." Aiko continues. "Unable to fly alone. But, if we have just one other person in our life willing to beat their wing in rhythm with our own, we can sour higher than any creature God has created. Imagine, Nanami, how far you could go if a million wings were beating together. That is what I am striving for when I say I have come to help you. I want to see you, every member of Schwartz, and every member of that misguided group of white do-gooders, fly together."  
  
Fairy-tales of myth and magic flutter throughout Toto's scattered thoughts, forming images of some heavenly kingdom on earth. A kingdom which - once upon a time - may have existed, but one the world brutally turned to ashes long ago.  
  
Standing from her spot on the grass, Aiko helps Toto to her feet, taking the girl's arm as she leads them both in the direction of a small, lonely cottage just beyond the trees. Glinting in the still rising sun, a peculiar umbrella has been left behind, and a distraught, stuffed bunny lays forgotten beside it.  
  
"Come with me, Nanami. There are many things we need to talk about..."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
There is nothing to talk about.   
  
There is nothing to mull over or question. There is simply fact, and the dauntless, waiting hours ahead for what may unexpectedly blow in with the wind.   
  
Time enough has passed, a half an hour in actuality, but time enough for Fujimiya Ran to make his way down from the living quarters above "Kitty in the House," after watching vigilantly the mysterious shop on the other side of the street. The cool air of the morning has prompted him to dawn a familiar, old, orange sweater, which he hasn't worn in over a year. It is peculiar how unaccustomed events makes one long even more for the comfort of past peace.   
  
Even if that peace never truly existed...  
  
"Aya-kun, where have you been? We had a rush this morning, you sleepyhead." Omi reprimands playfully, flitting past his friend as the red head opens the door from upstairs. The blue-eyed boy knows quite well that Ran isn't late because he slept in - Fujimiya Ran never sleeps in - but because he had been unable to remove his watchful eyes from a certain point of speculation. "We're short-handed today. Hurry and help us, will you?"  
  
Obediently, Ran reaches for his apron hanging on the hook near the back counter, slipping it unceremoniously over his head. "Short-handed?" he asks with hesitation, casting a nervous eye over the shop as he grabs hold of Omi's arm to keep the boy in place. "Where's Aya? Hasn't she been in?"  
  
Omi clumsily fumbles for an answer, his darling features contorting with apprehension as he stalls for time. But, just before he can think up some excuse to ease the red-head's growing anger, he is saved by the bell. Literally. Just in time, the little bell on the shop door dings, signally the entry of new customers.   
  
"Ohaiyo, minna. Look who I brought."  
  
The four florists turn their attention to the door, where a pleasant dispositioned Aya-chan stands happily, with three unique guests poised defiantly behind her.  
  
"Great, just who I was hoping to see today." Youji groans sarcastically, leaning back in his chair behind the front counter. All the lovely ladies of Fluesternd, save one, have popped in for a visit - just as they said they might - escorted by the sister of Weiss' leader herself. "So, you showed up after all, and just so you could ruin another one of our mornings, right?"  
  
Sternly, Aya stalks towards Youji at the counter, one hand on her hip, while the other points an accusing finger in his face. "Be nice, Youji-kun. I've been talking with "Kitten's" owners for almost an hour, and from what I've learned, you have no right to be so rude to them. Why, I'd say you should apologize for how you've treated them up till now."  
  
"Apologize!?" Ken barks in response, unthinkingly slamming his fist down on the table beside him. "They're the ones who should apologize! They could've gotten us killed!"  
  
"Enough with the theatricals already, huh, honey?" Hiromi steps in, walking up to Ken with her unforgettable sway. "We *saved* your asses, if I remember correctly."  
  
Witnessing the unfolding events, Ran can't help but reach a hand up to his forhead, rubbing his temples in anticipation for the oncoming headache of an all too familiar situation.  
  
"Saved us? Saved us from what?!" Ken demands irately, tossing his arms into the air.  
  
"From a deplorable mistake, you uncivilized grunt!" pipes in Nori, her silver eyes blazing with metallic fire from behind her glasses as she stares Ken down. "The mistake of taking innocent lives! You're such a hopeless brute, you probably don't even care!!"   
  
Oh, the joy of instant replay! Doesn't it all seem so familiar?  
  
"Stop it, stop it, stop it!!"  
  
All eyes turn in shocked silence to the tantrumed, elfish brunette who has moved to the center of the room. Her high-pitched voice echoes over the walls and surfaces of plant-life like cannon-fire on a battle field.   
  
Amaya has spoken.  
  
"Don't make me take your voices away again, because I'll do it like *that*!" she continues, throwing her threatening, emerald eyes about the room. "For once, can we just talk to each other without jumping down peoples' throats? We barely even know each other, and we're acting like a dysfunctional family or something."  
  
An ashamed stillness instantly washes over the room, changing it from a pot of boiling water to a frozen pond.   
  
"Arigato, Amaya." Aya grins, hopping herself up onto the countertop. "Now, you boys ready to listen up?"  
  
Far from amused, Ran makes his way across the room to his sister, firmly prepared to take over the situation. "What is this about, Aya? How did they get you involved?"  
  
"I got *myself* involved, Ran-niisan." she replies, just as resolutely. "You want to listen to the rest of what they have to say. Trust me."  
  
All sound seems to cease, as if Amaya has indeed hindered the sound waves in the room, though guilt and awe are clearly enough to instill such quiet.   
  
(This is insufferable.) The ever-suspicious red-head grumbles within, eyeing the female group with caution, and noting with odd disappointment that one member seems to be missing. (Now they have even pulled Aya into this somehow. We have to know what they are planning, and how it involves us. I want to know everything...)  
  
"We'll listen." he states, releasing the choking silence. "But this time, you will leave nothing unanswered. Understand? No more deception, or we will put an end to these games of yours once and for all."  
  
Tension creeps into the joints of every inhabitant of the shop like solidifying cement. Reading between the lines of Ran's abrupt statement is not a difficult thing to do, and his intentions are clear as shattered glass to both groups. After all, Weiss' missions have never been to defend the innocent, but to punish the guilty - by any and all means.  
  
There is no room for benevolence.  
  
"Then accompany us to "Kitten's Cafe," Abyssinian," replies a voice near as cold-hearted as his own. Nori - her blue curls tied back, though a few ringlets are loosely dangling in front of her eyes - has stepped forward, taking command in Aiko's absence. "All your answers await you there, I promise. But, I caution you in acting on your threats should those answers not appease you. I certainly wouldn't want to see you hurt."  
  
An electric moment of trepidation sparks between Ran and his fellow ice queen. However, Ran is never one to be outdone. "Lead the way...Somali, I believe it was?" he answers with a dark glare. "I'll be holding you to that promise."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The day is miraculously holding volumes of promise.  
  
Leaving Aya behind to watch over the shop, both groups carefully begin crossing the street, keeping obvious distance from one another, as if they were at some junior high dance with girls on one end while the boys hover in the corners of another. Well, Amaya is the exception. Glowing with flirtatious zeal, she has taken possession of Omi once again, playfully whispering into his ear words which either throw him into fits of giggles or turn him redder than Ran's flame-drenched hair.   
  
"This feels like a trap..." Ken mentions suspiciously to Youji as they approach "Kitten's" door. "Why do we need to come to their place for answers, anyway? They have too much control over us if we work under their terms."  
  
"I like it when women take initiative." the playboy replies with a sly grin. "Gets me all hot and bothered."  
  
Releasing a deep groan of disgust, Ken rolls his eyes while whacking Youji hard on the arm. "Don't you ever think about anything besides who's pants you're getting into next? I'm being serious. What if this is all a trick?"  
  
"Guess you'll just have to take a chance and find out, Mr. Kitty." a woman's voice purrs from behind the pair.   
  
Ken jerks his head back to discover Hiromi just behind them, with a rather contented smile upon her full, rosy lips. Pointedly, she sweeps past them, reaching the door before anyone else, and swings it open for the others to enter.   
  
"Your first surprise you'll notice the second you walk inside." she continues merrily. "But I promise it isn't a firing squad."  
  
Nori brushes past the others quickly, disappearing through the door as if she had been yearning for the chance to escape the evil warmth of sunlight, and Amaya - with Omi semi-willingly attached - followers her inside. The three remaining Weiss eye Hiromi and the door like one or the other is about to eat them alive, but eventually ease their way past the blonde tempest, shuddering as she closes the door behind them.  
  
On first inspection, there is nothing unordinary about the place since their last visit, besides the impressive amount of customers browsing the aisles and enjoying treats at the cafe stand. However, looking more closely at *who* is playing clerk and waitress today, all four boys lose a few breaths in shock.  
  
"Birman?! Manx!?!"  
  
Quite the double-take, but it is indeed who it appears to be.  
  
After a quick, panicked glance at the door, Manx kindly finishes her exchange of cash for coffee - with a rather impatient customer - before slipping out from behind the cafe counter towards the others. Birman joins her, leaving the cashier desk behind, with a surprisingly calm look on her snowflake-pale features. Both appear right at home in the cozy, little shop.   
  
"Well, you boys have alot to get caught up on." Hiromi's sultry voice rips through the tensed, awkward pause of voices. "Why don't you follow Nori and our 'mutual friends' upstairs? Amaya and I can handle the customers."  
  
"What?!" the suddenly indignant brunette pipes in, releasing Omi's arm as she flies towards her buxom teammate. "I wanna listen in, too!"  
  
Stone-etched features toss a glance of disapproval at the faery-child, as Nori's silver eyes glitter with authority. "Someone has to watch over the shop, Sokoke. Besides, you already know everything they are going to hear." Nori heads past the others on this, stomping to the back of the store, with a few extra curls of midnight blue loosening from her ponytail.  
  
The members of Weiss are all equally aghast, struggling to fend off horrid headaches, while Manx and Birman gesture after the embittered young woman confidently.   
  
So much can change a life. So little, actually, is all it takes to spin one's world upside down, backwards, and out of orbit from the normal, happy peace of humdrum life.   
  
In the case of a certain deadly quartet, life will never be the same...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Life couldn't possibly be more devious.  
  
"I want to know what's going on NOW!!" Ran bellows, pacing furiously within the kitchen of the apartment above "Kitten's Cafe," which - oddly enough - seems practically identical to Weiss' own upstairs apartment, complete with five bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room, and a simple - and suddenly very cramped - kitchen.  
  
"That is what we are hear to explain, Abyssinian." a voice speaks softly in response, unbelievably unfazed by the red-head's anger.   
  
Birman has spoken from her chair at the kitchen table, obviously drained already from the oncoming conversation. Manx flanks her to the right, Nori on the left, and Youji is sitting across from her. Omi found a comfortable spot on the counter beside the sink, and Ken discovered that fading into the corner was the most pleasant spot he could possibly choose to stand, especially in helping him stay out of Ran's way.   
  
"Then explain." Ran demands again, slamming his hands down on the table. "Why are you working for Fluesternd? Who are they to you? What are they up to? What does it have to do with Kritiker? With Botan? With Persia? What the hell is going on!?!"   
  
Eyes fiercer than any other aspect of her placid demeanor could possibly be bore into Ran as Birman returns his glare, unflinching after his barrage of enraged questioning. "First, understand that we are not working *for* Fluesternd, but *with* them. There is no one we work *for* any longer."  
  
"But, what about Persia...?" Omi offers.  
  
"Persia?" she instantly cuts in. "Persia died from a fatal gunshot wound. You know that. You were there."  
  
No one can argue with her logic, but the question remains, if Persia is in fact dead...  
  
"Who have we been accepting orders from then?" Youji demands, voicing the obvious question.  
  
"The only man left to give you orders...until now, anyway." Manx replies with a sad grin, folding her arms over her chest. "I didn't like it at first, but we had to go along with *them*...for Fluesternd's sake. For your sake, too."  
  
Willing his tightened lips to move, Ken asks gently, almost too softly to hear, as if he is afraid of the answer. "Them? Them...who?"  
  
The little kitchen drops a few degrees colder in temperature, threatening to freeze everyone to the bitter bone. All eyes move to Birman, even Nori's and Manx's, though they know the answer already. "You followed the orders of a computer generated copy for so long after the real Persia died. It is not surprising that you didn't even question who was guiding you when a new shadow stepped in as replacement." Her voice is distant, far from the gentle tamber they are so used to hearing from her. "He masked his voice, slicked back his hair, all the while making you believe Kritiker had risen from its ashes...even though all of it was a lie. After Takatori Shuuichi's death, Kritiker was already falling apart, even though Botan tried to keep everything together, and after nearly all of our operatives were assassinated by Schwartz, Kritiker ceased to exist altogether." Manx and I are the only members left, and we kept the truth from you because it is what Botan would have wanted. We had no choice. If we hadn't gone along with *them*, Fluesternd wouldn't have come this far, and their objective is far too important."  
  
"Yeah, that's all fine and good..." Youji breaks in impatiently, leaning back in his chair. "...but could you get to the point. Who are *they*? Who has Persia really been all this time?"  
  
Her sunken expression clearly revealing the reluctance she has in admitting the final truth, Birman takes a breath, looks each member of Weiss squarely in the eyes before speaking, and finally admits. "They...are Schwartz. Your greatest enemy. And for far longer than you would like to believe, Persia has been...Brad Crawford."  
  
Is that ice forming on the countertop, or is the frosty air merely a figment of the imagination? How unbearably cold, like a nightmarish sweat, forcing the astonished members of Weiss to break out in beads, gasping for breath.  
  
Infuriated enough to physically need the act of calling out, Ken's tenor voice echoes with a horrified howl before he can form actual words. "Crawford..." he breathes at last. "...we've been following orders from that psychotic psychic all this time!!"  
  
The young brunette's words ricochet off the walls, flying past a flabbergasted Kudo, a slowly sobering Fujimiya, and a fearful Tsukiyono, who is also compelled to speak.  
  
"Then...all our missions...have we been...killing...innocent -"  
  
"No. Of course not, Bombay. We would never allow that." Manx interrupts quickly, mending the boy's misplaced grief. "Your missions have always been legitimate. Crawford couldn't afford to give you a false one. He knew if you were to ever become suspicious, your quest for answers would lead back to him, and that would have disrupted his plan."  
  
Regaining his unbelievably lost voice, Ran's arms fall limply to his sides, a peculiar ache resonating in his chest. "What plan?"  
  
"To keep you preoccupied and out of his way." Nori answers, speaking for the first time since being joined by the others upstairs.  
  
"But...if the missions were on the level..." a frazzled Youji begins, trying to make sense of it all. "...then what was that red-haired leader of yours...Aiko...talking about when she said those men weren't killers last night? Was that a real mission or not?"  
  
Accepting the reins once again, Birman replies. "No. Your most recent mission *was* a false one. The only false one, thankfully. We believe Crawford issued it to get a closer look at Fluesternd. If this is true, then Schwartz knows more about all this than we anticipated, which could be very dangerous...to us all."  
  
The atmosphere of the room hangs in perpetual chill, just unbearable enough to numb the skin, but subtle enough to be dismissed. A grave quiet latches the shutters of sound shut with a resounding bang. However, more questions remain.  
  
"I still don't understand." Ran speaks with narrowed eyes. "How did Crawford do this? How can you believe Botan would want us to follow that madman's orders!?"  
  
Before Manx or Birman can answer the red-head's desperate inquisition, another red-head answers for them, her low-toned voice calling from the doorway. "Because of *me*, Abyssinian."  
  
All eyes turn to the figure silhouetted in the door-frame, her flaming hair glowing surreally in the sunlight shining through the window behind her.  
  
"You...you're behind all this..." Ran breathes with a tone like burning ice.  
  
"I suppose I am, but if you want to know the full truth, I suggest you listen to what I'm going to tell you."  
  
Aiko enters the cramped kitchen - growing smaller by the minute - and begins to pace purposefully around the room, addressing everyone at once as she takes control of the conversation.  
  
"I know you will have questions, but save them. Most of what I shall tell you will answer them anyway, so please, just listen."  
  
Her voice is soft but forceful, demanding attention and compliance. As she begins, her fierce, violet eyes glow more brilliantly than Ran's ever could, proving her passion for what her motives and story hold.   
  
"Let me start from the beginning. Let me tell you how Kritiker first began. There have been numerous organizations like it, of course, but this one was quite special. For you see, it originated from the dreams of two very unique - yet similar - men. Dreams of vengeance and justice. Did you know Botan once worked on the same police force as Takatori Schuuichi? You see, Persia had desperately wanted to create a group of mercenaries to help him watch over his brother, Reiji, which you *do* know. But it was Botan's loss of his wife and child that blossomed Persia's ideals into Kritiker."  
  
Aiko passes Ran as she speaks these words, looking to him as if he must already know this much of the story, though he can't understand how she could possibly know that he does.  
  
"Yes, Botan had bigger dreams, much bigger. He wanted to wipe the city clean of all those criminals who escape the law. In truth, he was using it as an excuse to search for his family, but...he was too late for that. He found his wife dead, and his daughter missing, though he believed her to still be alive right up until his own death. But let me step away from Kritiker and focus on how Fluesternd was formed." she continues, still pacing the room with purposeful steps. "It's all because of me and *my* dreams, and because Botan took the time to listen to them. It began a few years back when I was living in Ireland. Such a strange, little town, extremely Catholic, and I didn't really get to know the people all that well during my stay. But there was this one, darling nun I had the pleasure of meeting whom I got to know quite well indeed."  
  
(Impossible...) Ken's thoughts buzz. (She can't be talking about who I think she's talking about...can she...?)  
  
"She was the sounding board I needed at the time." Aiko goes on, reminiscing with a soft smile. "And after all the help she gave me, how could I refuse being the same for her? Actually, she was all too willing to tell me about her past. Poor thing had kept so much bottled up for ages. You see, it seems she had a son. A son who hadn't known she was his mother until one very unfortunate day years before. He was quite distraught when he found out that the family he had been living with all his life wasn't really his family at all. It was too much for him, too much in realizing that his entire existence had been a lie. And so...blindly, at such a young age...he killed that false family that had raised him. Killed them in a rage he couldn't control. Does this story sound familiar...Siberian?"  
  
Startled by the sudden attention on him, Ken flinches, eyeing Aiko in complete disbelief, and mirroring the expression of his fellow teammates.  
  
"That's right. Ruth was a wonderful woman, wasn't she?" Aiko adds in a melancholy whisper. "Before I left for home, I promised her that I would bring her son back. No, not that I would capture the man you know as Farfarello and send him home, but that I would save that misguided, young man somehow, and bring *Jei* back to her. I only wish she had lived to see my promise to her fulfilled. If there is one thing I can say about myself, it is that I am indeed very resourceful. I knew he was here in Japan, and I knew I was going to need help if I was to keep my promise at all. So, naturally, my search led me to Kritiker, and Botan nearly laughed at my proposal. 'Reforming a maniac like that? Impossible!'"  
  
(That's certainly what I would have said...) Omi thinks with a furrowed brow. (Who would want to save someone like that? He...he killed Ouka. I could never forgive him...)  
  
"I was insistent." Aiko presses on. "But when Botan told me about *you*, I knew this was going to be much more difficult than I had first imagined. Simply put, there is just too many of you connected. Weiss. Schwartz. Kritiker. I needed a definate plan. I needed help. So, I asked Botan for aid, and he gave it to me." Stopping just behind Nori, Aiko grasps the back of her friend's chair. "Hiromi was already a member of Kritiker at the time, and she jumped at the chance to help me; Amaya was also connected with the organization and was more than willing to join; and Nori...well, Nori found me, actually, but that's another story. Together we had purpose enough - for various reasons - to go after all of Schwartz. And, after learning so much about all of you, we decided to go after you as well." A curious smirk plays at the corner of her lips. "It started as a sort of bet between Botan and myself. He wanted to be able to complete his work without bloodshed, but didn't see how it was possible, and as for me, I couldn't understand how he could ever imagine it wasn't. I do not mean to judge, nor give any pretense of understanding why you have chosen the lives you lead. Just hear me out till I am finished."  
  
Her explanation reaching its end, Aiko makes her way back near the doorway, finishing her story right where it began.  
  
"When Persia died, Botan knew it was the beginning of the end. Too many factors were involved, too many complications. I told him I wanted to confront both you and Schwartz right then and there, before things got out of control, but...he didn't want to risk beginning a battle we weren't ready for. Botan wanted to give Fluesternd more time to prepare for a confrontation, so I...I backed down and decided to wait. I never could have imagined what would happen. Before I knew it, Botan was dead, and Estet was killing off members of Kritiker left and right with the use of Schwartz and their other operatives. When it was all over, and Manx and Birman informed me that Crawford had taken over Kritiker's resources, *I* told them to follow Brad's orders - to have *you* follow his orders, because Botan would have wanted to give Fluesternd all the time we needed. I couldn't go against him, because...*I* was the reason he died. He was only trying to help *me*, that is why he got more involved with Weiss personally."  
  
Her impassioned, tearful words are addressed to Ran more than any of the others, and whatever anger he may have had fueling inside of him slips away under the stress of her eyes looking so imploringly into his own.  
  
"I can only blame myself for his death. He shouldn't have been out there! But...I can't rightly say I wish he hadn't been, because he saved your life, Abyssinian, and in the end, all he had wanted was to help see my dream made a reality. All he wanted was for me to prove him wrong..." Her voice trails off slightly, and the most tearfelt smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. "...he saw hope in me...hope he had lost when he lost his family so long ago. If only you knew how often he told me that he saw the same hope in you, Abyssinian. In all of you. My dream was just as much his in the end. If I lost all other reasons for continuing my plight - saving innocent lives, damned lives, *your* lives - if I lost all that, I would still continue...for him."   
  
Grandly, Aiko lifts her head with regal grace, beseaching them all now as the violet fire of her eyes almost seems to glow.  
  
"Now it is finally time to end this. Schwartz is readying whatever destructive plan they have been waiting to accomplish, and you are left without any support. No Persia. No Kritiker. No purpose. The rest of my story is up to you. To Weiss. I'm asking you, all of you...will you help us?"   
  
The very walls heave a sigh of relief, wanting to burst with the mass of emotions filling the room, and feeling a great peace in having such a heartfelt tale brought to an end, and left open with a simple question. A question which - though meant for all four assassins - is directed at Ran to answer.  
  
(What am I supposed to say?) Ran wonders, sick to the stomach, and the heart. (How can I speak for the others? I don't even know what *I* want. It's not as if she can wipe away the years of blood staining our hands! What...)  
  
"What do you think you can accomplish with all this?" he asks intently, secretly craving to cast a glance at any one of his fellow teammates, though too proud to openly go searching for help. "Do you think we can just pick up and stop being who we are, pretending we're suddenly...saved? Do you actually think we can just forgive ourselves, let alone Schwartz, and become what you believe we should be? How?! How -"  
  
"All I ask of you, all I expect from you, is that you try." Aiko breaks in, tearing at Ran's barriers with every sparkle in her damp eyes. "Help us reach Schwartz before it is too late for them, before it is too late for you. Listen, speak with one another, learn to leave your weapons behind, and give us a chance. We are all in this for different reasons, but all of us want to see the bloodshed stop -"  
  
"Even if we're killing off the scum of the earth?" Youji asks suddenly, glaring at Aiko coldly, an expression far too chilling to be coming from him.  
  
Aiko returns this look with great disappointment upon her pale face. "Yes, even then. Life is so precious, no matter how...no matter how corrupted or black it may seem. Yes, there are black beasts in this world, Balinese, but what gives *you* the right to be their executioner? Your pain? Your past? If mine does not give me that right, yours most certainly does not!"  
  
Roar. Aiko has a way of making people think. And, after all, thinking is the beginning of everything, especially when you are forced to think about things you once believed would stay buried long before *you* ever were.  
  
"I...I never wanted my life to turn out like this..."  
  
Everyone's eyes follow the whispered, high-pitched voice that has spoken, to discover an extremely shaken Omi, with silent tears streaming down his face, and becoming more audible by the minute.   
  
Youji looks at his friend with disdain at first, but immediately wants to kick himself for it. For resenting that Omi has always more openly hated what they are, voicing so much more what all of them feel.   
  
Even the noted jock, Hidaka Ken, has to fight with everything left in him to keep his own tears from falling. Pain buried again and again and again only to one day - long overdue - be released, is pain a million times more wrenching than it ever had to be.   
  
As for Ran, he has no excuses for dismissing what Aiko...what Fluesternd...what...Botan asks of him, even if he has difficulty voicing how he feels.  
  
"Bombay...all of you..." Manx breaks into the growing silence, seeming to appear out of thin air considering how she and Birman had practically faded into their chairs during Aiko's long story. "...you don't have to live the rest of your lives hating who you are and what you've done. Persia, the real Persia, would never have wanted that."  
  
"Don't look at this as a trap." Birman adds. "Look to each other instead. Not as fellow assassins, but as friends. What do *you* want?"  
  
A stillness like none other that had fallen on them so far, blankets around the group like an ashen quilt. A person may not be able to change in a day, but their life most certainly can.  
  
Aiko breaks the quiet with her soft footsteps on the floor, bringing her ever closer to Ran as she looks to him once again for an answer. "What do *you* want?" she asks, repeating Birman's words. "Do you want your life back, Abyssinian? Your sister back?"  
  
"I..."  
  
"Do you want to prove you can be more than your family name, Bombay?" She drives on, turning out to all of them. "That you are more than what the world thinks of you, Siberian? That there is hope, and second chances for everyone, in everything, Balinese? The choice comes down to you all."  
  
Her violet eyes burn brighter than ever before, turning back to Ran for a reply. All of them understand why she continues to look to him, because they realize - just as she does - that he is the one who must voice what Weiss' choice will be.   
  
What is he to do?   
  
Panicked, Ran looks to each of his...friends...and finds the same answer on all of their faces. No matter how feeble, the human mind always clings to hope. We can't help it, we have to. Sometimes it is all we have.  
  
"Korat..." his deep voice answers, barely audible with the difficulty of these words, and all that is weighing so heavily on his heart. "...for Botan...for...for all those we have lost...including ourselves...I can only say we will try. We will..." He pauses, hardly daring to believe he is about to say what he must. "We will help you...even if it costs us our lives."  
  
  
*****A/N***** This should explain almost everything now, and I hope you are enjoying it. Please, on hands and knees I beg for reviews. How can I keep going if I don't know what you think? Love you all! :-) 


	6. 6

*****6*****  
  
  
Is life merely an illusion?  
  
After all, what in our lives has true form, true purpose? Some may look to creature comforts to prove their existence. If you have a place to sleep, food to eat, clothes on your back, and all the little nick-nacks we can't possibly live without these days, then you must be alive, right?   
  
Wrong.  
  
So, how do you know you are not just a figment of someone else's imagination? Is it because you breathe, because you think? I think therefore I am. Right. But what's that worth? Thinking is a beginning, but it is not an end. It most definitely isn't proof of anything. No, true worth is measured with the heart and soul, not the mind. What we feel, not what we imagine. What we believe, not what we long to be true.  
  
A person could tread about the earth believing one incredulous lie to be their own personal truth, living in an utter fairy-tail forever. But, seeing the real truth, knowing what is false, what the reality of life actually is, can be shattering. Ignorance is not bliss, dears, and it never will be. However, it can hold a false sense of security we perceive as something near bliss, near enough for us to accept it.  
  
We are the puppets and the puppeteers upon ourselves, pulling strings blindly, forcefully, and yearning for them to be taken away or cut completely.   
  
Oh, the sweet sensuality of pain. Perhaps that is the only true form reality exists in anymore...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Drip. Drip. Drip.   
  
A steady, pulsing rhythm of water hitting the cold, metal floor as it drip, drip, drips from a leaky pipe running across the high ceiling. The air is stale, unnaturally cold and rank for a room indoors, but left in such a state on purpose. Uncomfortable and uninhabitable is exactly how the unique inhabitant of this room likes it to be.  
  
Pain, agony, the noticeable stench of masochism thick upon the walls, the floor, every inch of putrid space - Farfarello thrives off of it. He adores his basement room with its padded walls and devices of torture. Well, he usually does, to say the least, but for once that drip, drip, drip reminds him far too much of the splatter of a victim's blood, especially when that victim is himself. For you see, the poor darling is forbade from doing anything to fulfill his addiction to pain.   
  
Brad Crawford, the ever-strict leader of Schwartz, will not allow Farfarello to injure himself when the time for action is so close, nor will he allow the noted psychopath to go out and hunt for prey in fear of repercussions that might endanger their objective.  
  
What is it they say about idle hands...?  
  
Drip. Drip. Drip.  
  
(...stop...no more sound...I just need to wait...soon...soon...) Farfarello chants vaguely, rocking steadily back and forth as he sits cross-legged on his bed. With his arms folded in front of him to clutch at his sides, the Irishman appears like a child, dazed and waiting for the end of a sentenced time-out.   
  
Drip. Drip.  
  
(...if I just picked one up...how would he know...?) continues his streamline thoughts, as he stares with sick hunger at the set of knives only inches in front of him.   
  
One is long and thin with a crescent moon handle in tarnished brass. A devoted friend. The other is broader, a dagger, with a silver handle intricately carved to fit Farfarello's grip flawlessly. It was a gift. A cruel gift from Schuldrich, capable only of taunting him until he has permission to use it again.   
  
(...a small cut only...a gash at my wrist...to feel the blood...running down my arm...dripping to the floor...)  
  
Drip. Drip. Drip.  
  
(...Crawford wouldn't have to know...just a little...I...I need it...)  
  
Resolutely, Farfarello reaches a hand towards the prized new dagger, shaking uncontrollably.   
  
Drip.  
  
Almost there, he can almost feel the blade cutting into his skin already as he moves to close his pale fingers around the handle...  
  
"Naughty, naughty. Better not do that."  
  
Freezing his outstretched hand, Farfarello's breathing increases laboriously, as if he can't bear to wait a moment longer to feel the sweet kiss of metal again as this trespasser forces him to stop. How unfair. Brad might not have guessed Farfarello's intentions, he might have never had a vision predicting them, but the owner of *this* intruding voice could easily read the albino's starving mind.  
  
"Awww, does the little lunatic want to play and Daddy won't let him?" the taunting, nasal voice continues.  
  
There is a distinct pause while Farfarello holds his suspended arm hovering above the blades. Time appears suspended right along with it, waiting...holding its stagnant breath...until it suddenly snaps back into reality.   
  
With a flurry of movement, Farfarello snatches up both treasured knives, leaping from the bed. He rushes at the filthy walls of fabric, slashing madly with howls that would turn the dead in their graves. His rush of aggression carries him around the room, tearing it apart on a whim of frenzy, until his rampage comes to a dangerous halt at the large, caging door where Schuldrich stands poised and unflinching.   
  
"You wouldn't hurt the hand that feeds you, would you, Farfie?" the red-head grins, ignoring the knives now pressed against each side of his neck. "Just having a bit of fun, you know? Better hand those over before Bradley decides to *punish* you."  
  
The stressed word is enough to make Farfarello flinch, recoiling from the German as he lowers the blades to his sides. Punishment means a binding straight-jacket and suspension from an awkward hook hanging in the center of the room. On a normal day, he would have relished the discomfort, but with the gnawing restlessness of the moment, the idea of being bound is not a welcome one.  
  
"That's a good boy." Schu sighs. "Give those to me willingly and I promise I'll ask Brad if you can have a bit of fun. Deal?"  
  
Farfarello is skeptical, tracing the German's face with his golden eye. "You said that before. You said I'd get to play...those women...from the warehouse...but Crawford let them go. You lied..."  
  
Completely at ease, Schuldrich sweeps past Farfarello into the room, leaning against the headboard of the bed casually. "Now, now, don't be angry with *me*." he states with a dignified smirk. "It wasn't time then, but Crawford's had a little prediction again, and do you know what he saw this time?"  
  
His mind voraciously intrigued, Farfarello tilts his head in a questioning manner, silently asking for the red-head to go on.  
  
"He says you and I are gonna get a new playmate from Nagi's flower field. A real lively one." Schuldrich licks his lips on those words, his jade eyes twinkling greedily.  
  
"That foolish girl?" Farfarello questions in disappointment.  
  
Schu throws out a laugh, his one-in-a-million cackle, and shakes his head slowly. "Not the bumbling, blue-haired idiot. Someone much better. Someone who will writhe and scream for you, Farfie. I promise..."  
  
  
*****   
  
  
(I promise...Ran-niisan...there is hope for you...)  
  
The day dwindles on, blue skies and marshmallow clouds floating lazily above and making one long for the fresh outdoors. Being surrounded by sweet-smelling flowers and plant-life, however, gives Aya the perfect atmosphere in which to contemplate her dreams of a happier life for her brother.   
  
Ever since Fluesternd whisked Weiss away to their home across the street, the girl with braided hair and a frozen, false smile, has been waiting anxiously, helping customers with half-hearted enthusiasm. At the moment, the shop is pleasantly empty, and her thoughts are allowed to wander even more with her attention fully distracted from work.  
  
(I can't believe all the things they told me.) she recounts, dawning a genuine, though small smile. (How they want to help Ran and the others, and even those strange men Weiss has so many files on. Oh, if Ran knew what I did when they were away, he'd-)  
  
Ding.  
  
Aya's attention is brought back to the task of running the shop as the door signals a new customer. Looking up with excitement in hopes that her fellow florists are returning, Aya turns her attention to the door, spotting someone she is even more thrilled to see as she does. The one person who has come to know all of her darkest secrets.  
  
"Sakura-chan! Ohaiyo!! I forgot it was Saturday today." she rattles off happily, coming out from behind the counter to meet her friend by the entrance.  
  
Sakura, as always, is a grin from ear to ear, her sandy, chin-length hair bouncing with her every movement. "Forgot?" she echoes in mock indignation. "How could you forget a shopping date, Aya-chan? It's the one time you can get away from all this and forget that you live with four *boys*." Sakura suddenly stops, smirking devilishly. "As if you would ever want to forget that!"  
  
Overjoyed at having something to lighten her heavy, though hopeful, heart, Aya laughs melodically, but as if struck by some unseen lightening bolt, suddenlly turns rigid with alert. "Oh, no! The boys are off talking with that group of women I was telling you about" she realizes. "I have to look after the shop till they get back."   
  
"That's all right, it's still early." Sakura smiles, dismissing Aya's distress with a wave of her hand. "You can fill me in on more of what's going on."  
  
With a flourish, Sakura hops herself up on top of the counter while Aya slips back behind it, just in case any real customers should straggle in. Of course, it is usually quite empty until the ravenous fangirls show up later in the day.  
  
"There's nothing new to tell really, apart from how I helped convince the guys to go over and have a nice long talk with Fluesternd." Aya explains, plopping down on the stool beside the cash register.  
  
At this, Sakura furrows her eyebrows thoughtfully. "I wonder what Fluesternd means. Is it German like Weiss? I'm terrible with foreign languages."  
  
"It is." Aya confirms. "It means 'whispering'. Kind of mysterious, isn't it?"  
  
"How do you know that's what it means? It's not as if you were studying other countries for two years while you were off in dreamland."  
  
Everyone - except Ran, of course - has made it a habit of discussing Aya's time in a coma with a comical undertone. Lightly, jokingly, not as if it was this unbelievable horror she will never recover from. And, frankly, Aya prefers it that way. It was a shock, to say the least, when she found out she had slept away years of her life, but considering she hadn't actually aged during that time, Aya doesn't see it as a loss. She chooses to see it as...time to think. Now, however, is time for action, and she has been following her ambitions since the moment she woke up.  
  
"Omi had the translation on his computer." the blue-haired girl replies simply. "He's already made up a file on them in his database, too. I found it when I snuck downstairs again last night."  
  
Loosing her easy-going smile, Sakura's face shifts with a wave of nervous concern. "You better be careful, Aya. Ran would be furious if he found out you've been hacking into their files all this time. He's never looked as frightening as he did the night he warned me not to tell you about Weiss."  
  
Despite this warning, Aya is quick to comfort, not ruffled in the slightest. "I *am* careful, Sakura-chan." she assures her friend. "I've managed to read up on every mission they've ever had, details about their backgrounds, tons of info, and I haven't been caught yet. What makes you think Ran could catch me at all?"  
  
"I can think of one way..."  
  
The atmosphere shifts, going stiflingly limp with the sudden echo of a familiar and darkly resounding voice. Aya and Sakura freeze in place, their heartbeats stilled in their chests as Ran and the others drift in from behind them. The members of Weiss have entered from the back door and snuck up upon the girls completely by surprise.  
  
"Ran-niisan...I was just telling Sakura how -"  
  
"I heard what you said." the eerily calm red-head cuts in, stalking towards her. "All this time you've tried to tell me how you know about everything, but I just wouldn't listen. I should've known you'd resort to anything to find out the truth. Even digging through Omi's computer files."  
  
Aya had immediately been filled with fear at her brother's sudden appearance, but that fear is quickly fading, just as it is fading from the friend at her side. What should have caused Ran to scream in rage, seems instead to be rolling off his back. Both girls sigh in great relief, sensing an understanding presense from him that he rarely possesses.  
  
"I did what I had to for your protection...or so I thought." Ran continues gently. "I don't want you sneaking behind my back anymore. I think it's about time we had a talk."  
  
This unbelievable change in Ran lifts Aya's spirits as she never imagined. "Of course, Ran-niisan." she replies, in sheer disbelief, and they quickly head for the door that leads to the apartment above, leaving the others behind.  
  
With bemused expressions, the remaining members of Weiss, and a very cheerful Tomoe Sakura, turn their attention to the flock of chattering, young school girls now making their way into the shop.  
  
How does the day change so completely, so fast?  
  
  
*****  
  
  
How can a person change so completely, so fast?  
  
Remember, the truth is but a whisper, echoing on forever and without purpose unless there is someone to hear it.   
  
With shades drawn and all sound shuttered away, the kitchen in the apartment above "Kitty" is even more like a prison than the one within "Kitten" had been less than an hour before. The room itself is vibrating with a silence so tangible, it could only be broken by a shuddering crash.   
  
"I'm a murderer."  
  
Crash.  
  
"Ran-niisan -"  
  
"No. Let me say this." a deep, melancholy voice speaks again, soft and trembling.   
  
Both Fujimiyas are seated at the kitchen table across from one another. For some time they have sat without a word spoken between them, but no longer. Many words - oh, so many - long to be revealed in the unforgivable light of day.   
  
"I'm a murderer." Ran repeats with finality. "Whatever you found in our files, you must at least realize that. I've killed countless people, Aya. Brutally, for money, and without remorse, I have stained your name...stained everything I ever stood for..."  
  
"But...you were doing it for me." Aya's small voice squeaks, tears easily forming in her pale, anguished eyes. "You live with all this guilt and pain you won't allow yourself to face, and it's all because of me. How could I see you as a murderer? I don't. You've been protecting me from this truth for the wrong reasons, Ran. You're my oniisan...always...I...I love you..."  
  
Aya hoped these heartfelt words would lift her brother's spirit, but they only prove to deepen his remorse. "You shouldn't. I don't want you caught up in...in everything I've done...in the horrors that will haunt me forever..."  
  
"Not anymore." she cuts in firmly, regaining her determination as she reaches over the table to grasp his hands in her own. "You've agreed to follow Fluesternd, haven't you? Things can be different now. You can have your life back and turn it into whatever you want it to be. The future isn't set in stone."  
  
"But the past is." he answers solemnly. "You can't erase what I've done any more than...any more than Korat can. You can't bring back the people I've killed for the moral justice I robbed them of. I -"  
  
"You..." Aya's gentle yet commanding voice breaks through, holding Ran's hands all the more tightly. "...are a good and wonderful man. Maybe you can't forgive yourself in a day. Fine. I understand that. But know that *I* forgive and love you, even if you believe I should not. Fluesternd wants to bring true justice wherever they can, using weapons and powers only if they have to. You can be apart of that. We both can. We already are. This mission of theirs to save Weiss and Schwartz is only a beginning, but it *is* a beginning. A new beginning. I just want to be apart of your life again. Please...please, Ran-niichan..."  
  
Hope - the immortal light of life - rests suspended in the air, floating above and around the pair as Ran looks deep into his sister's eyes, truly allowing her to see him again for the first time in far too long.  
  
(...Ran-niichan...?) the confounded red-head repeats in his mind, breathing in the very presence of his beloved imoto, and taking in all the welcoming scents of a new horizon on the edge of bringing sunlight back into his shaded life. (...she loves me still...after all I've done...and Fluesternd...they could change everything...dear, God, is there really hope...even for a sinner like me...?)  
  
A heavy heart and screeching conscience are difficult burdens to bear, but Fujimiya Ran's seem lifted, light and manageable, as he leaves his chair in a grand gesture of release. In a second he is on his knees beside his sister, accepting her into his arms just as he had briefly those few days ago. This time, however, he can't even imagine letting go.  
  
  
*****A/N***** Short one this round, but I hope it is still to your liking. Just keep the comments coming and I'll keep posting. 


	7. 7

*****7*****  
  
  
Do any of us truly exist?  
  
A question like that can be terrifying to some; not being able to tell the difference between fantasy and reality. We all know the feeling - we've all had those inescapable dreams - so we know how it feels to be powerless even if we are stronger than all those around us.   
  
So, if we can exist in a dream, or nightmare as the case may be, and not realize that we are in fact asleep, how can anyone be sure their own life isn't merely a bit of unconscious thought wrapped up in someone else's slumbering head?  
  
We can't.   
  
Not really. At least, not with unwavering conviction. There is always doubt, even the smallest shadow of a doubt, to taunt us. I suppose that is where faith comes in. Faith, Hope, and Love. Out of the ultimate three, faith has the most undefinable foundation. Everyone has experienced love in some form at some point in their life, and no matter who you are, you've felt hope, even if only for a fleeting moment.   
  
So what of faith? To believe in something without proof - no - to believe in something without the need for proof. You can't get more difficult than that. We are logical creatures. Humankind demands solid fact, not implications. Not dreams.  
  
Ah, how powerful dreams are, though. How monumental. We should all bow down before those who believe in dreams and fairy-tales, and we should grovel on our hands and knees before anyone rooted in faith, for such people are hard to come by these dark days. One might even say they are extinct.  
  
Well, I wouldn't go that far...  
  
  
*****   
  
  
Fog. Everywhere a mist of rainbows and dizzying flashes of forgotten memory. The air is bitter and cold, tasteless though seemingly rich with life. Wrapped in a familiar yet lost atmosphere, the very ground is nothing but billows of smoke, and a sense of self is so very indistinct - though far more real than it was the last time he was here.  
  
Blinking futilely past the blur of color and his own faded form, Brad Crawford recognizes where he is. Not long ago he had been in this very same state, catching only a momentary glimpse of something...someone...and the echo of distant laughter, before being brutally brought back to his sweat-soaked bed.  
  
This time the landscape is clearer, however, though still very vague. Staring intently down, he confirms that the ground does indeed exist despite his weightless bearings. He is in fact standing on a hill, or rather hovering above it, and a few formless blobs - trees, he imagines - litter the area around him. The sky is nothing but a bright mass of misted air that burns his eyes to look at for too long, and there is something so tormenting about this place, yet he can't remember ever feeling he belonged anywhere as much as he feels he belongs here.  
  
(This isn't our future...as I thought before...this is the past...) he concludes, hearing his thoughts bouncing about inside his head as if speaking into a megaphone beside his ears. (...I know this place...but from where...when...?)  
  
He attempts to walk forward and investigate, but without proper footing or contact with the ground, he only sways in the breeze. Oh, how he longs to move furthur up the hill! For just ahead of him is that same clearing of color and fog as he had experienced in this place before, revealing a figure he longs to reach. There is more than curls to this person now; there is shape and movement. Brad feels an instant panic to run forward and swing them around to see who it is. Who could it possibly be? This...this...  
  
(...girl.) the dark-haired, young man believes, knowing beyond a doubt that he is right. (...I know her...her voice...I can hear it...)  
  
Floating around him in the very particles of air, a song-like laughter is indeed swelling and falling with the wind, causing a dull ache in his chest which he seldom allows himself to feel. The pang of loneliness, and the hope of escaping it once and for all.  
  
"Hello?!" Brad's distant voice calls out, reaching with ghostly hands towards this vision of a young girl with ringlet strands. "Can you hear me?! Please, I must know who you are! Where are we!?! What's happening to me...?"  
  
Curiously, Brad realizes he has spoken in English, something he hasn't done for years, even when alone. Though American, there has always been a fear in him to connect himself in anyway with that identity; with the memories of a world he can't quite remember. And somehow...somehow...he believes this girl knows the answers he has never been allowed to pursue.  
  
As he is about to yell once more, Brad suddenly finds he has lost his voice. The girl is turning around. Perhaps she has heard him after all. Yes. Her curls bounce against slender shoulders as her head slowly begins to turn towards him. He is going to see her, see her face and...and instantly be wrapped up in a flood of memories that will explain everything he could never quite remember. Soon...so soon...he can almost see the outline of her delicate profile as her lovely laughter rings high and joyfully up into the clouds...  
  
Black. Cut off from his misty world with a fierce and sudden shock of darkness, Brad knows he has lost the vision, and that what he now sees is merely the inside of his own eyelids. There is no more cold or fog or weightless sensation; he is once again in his bed, burning with an unbearable sweat, and all too aware of his heavy, exhausted body.  
  
(Damnit! No...I was so close...so close. Why is this happening!! I-)  
  
(Something wrong, Honey?) Someone else's voice breaks into his mind. (You've been screaming in your sleep again. Not out loud, of course, but *I* can always hear you...)  
  
Sitting up roughly, Brad opens his bronze eyes like a flash, scowling murderously within the safe darkness of his room. There is no one inside with him, invading his space, but a familiar figure is most definitely nearby, invading something much more intimate: his mind.   
  
(Schuldrich!!!) He yells within, using a resonance that would shatter glass if spoken aloud. (How many times do I have to warn you about prying into my head when I'm off guard?! You have no right to -)  
  
(Oh, pull the stick out of your ass, Brad. It's a bit hard to ignore someone's private thoughts when they're broadcasting them out for all to hear, you know? All - meaning me - of course, but that's beside the point.)  
  
Furious beyond words, Brad shuts Schuldrich out of his mind like a steel vault. There is the distinctive sound of something slamming hard against the wall outside his room, and he is vaguely aware that his act must have been forceful enough to throw the unsuspecting German against it, more than likely knocking him out. However, the American gives the matter little thought. There is far too many unknowns swimming about inside his throbbing head to occupy him.  
  
What do these dreams of his mean? Who is the figure just out of reach whom he can't catch a proper glimpse of? What does she want? And why does he long so desperately to see her again as if her presence is a narcotic he has just become addicted to?  
  
Hopefully, that isn't the case. Such desperate obsession with a possibly dangerous experience almost always ends one of two ways:  
  
In regret...or...destruction...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Self-destruction.  
  
It is true that mankind has an innate sense of self-preservation, but imagine how many millions of ways we willingly destroy ourselves everyday. Cigarettes and alcohol alone can do wonders for the body, after all.  
  
A chill, Spring breeze blows in like silk through the window, spiraling the thin stream of smoke from the newly lit cancer stick held limply in Kudo Youji's right hand. He has just recently woken up, rather early - for anyone, especially him - as he sits casually beside the windowsill, puffing out grey smoke to greet the bright light of morning.  
  
It had been a rather quiet night for the noted playboy. For some reason, deciding to make a complete lifestyle change had tapped out his hormonal urges for the time being. A mass of difficult thoughts are crammed inside his head, all raging to be the first one addressed.   
  
It isn't easy becoming someone else...  
  
(Is this really gonna work?) the blonde wonders, flicking the tip of his cigarette out the window. (I can't believe we're really gonna just pick up and stop being who we've been for...years. Goddamn. I've been nothin' but a piece of murderer shit for *years*, and I haven't even hit a quarter of a century yet. Heh. There's a story to tell your grandchildren...)  
  
Something hidden crosses Youji's face as he takes in another long breath of nicotine air, allowing those bitter thoughts to sink in with a pang of...regret...he has never been able to share with anyone.   
  
Only when we are alone are we truly ourselves.   
  
No matter how open and real someone thinks they are in front of others, no one could possibly be who they really are when filled with the foolish pretense of fear at what others might think of them. And as if that wasn't bad enough, most people don't even realize when they have changed faces.  
  
(I guess if all hope really was lost, *they* would've turned out just like us.) Youji reasons with a slight shift of heart, pushing his sunglasses up and away from the bridge of his nose to block out some of the sharp rays of sunlight shining in through the open window. (I mean, how different are we? Their pasts have to be at least as...complicated as ours, so how come they ended up so righteous, and we just ended up...what? What the hell am I doing? Beating myself up again...when angels straight from Heaven have landed on our doorstep. Hehe. I must be out of my mind. Just remembering when we first saw them...when we *really* saw them for who they are...how could I not see this as a positive situation?)   
  
A coy little smile plays at the corner of Youji's lips, while his cigarette dangles between them.   
  
(Those cute, little outfits they wore...just like us...fit perfectly to match each one's personality on a mission. That edgy chic, Nori, in a grey, native-style dress with high collar and long sleeves. Stiff and elegant. Then there's that fairy-child, wearing a deep green, zip-up shirt to show of her belly-button ring, and those adorable shorts. Amaya...she's spunky, a real pistol of spirit. Omi better watch himself.)  
  
A low, humored laugh is released into the shivering air as Youji imagines Omi's usual encounters with women. The poor boy is far from experienced, and when such unique girls are involved in the equation, things can get pretty dangerous.  
  
(Of course, I can't forget about my favorite...) the blonde continues, leaning back contentedly against the window pane. (Hiromi. God, is she gorgeous. Curves like I've never seen, and in that long, leather coat, short skirt, low-cut top, and all of it black with navy crosses on the arms. Heh...kinda like me, isn't she? No wonder. I always fall for the difficult ones.)  
  
Wrapped up in his photographic memory, Youji lets his head fall to the side, gazing out his window upon the street below. As he does, a lone figure catches his eye and breaks into his reminiscing for a moment. Rosuto Aiko, long, red hair flowing freely in waves against the wind, has emerged from "Kitten's Cafe," making her way around the block and out of sight.  
  
(...and then there's the leader...) Youji grins. (Where could she be off to this early on a Sunday? And wearing the same getup she had on that night...a dark purple dress, halter straps, and a low riding belt, with slits up the long skirt on both sides right up to her hips. Too bad she's got those tight, little shorts on underneath. Either way, it's certainly aces in my little, black book. I bet the other boys aren't even up yet to catch this glimpse of her. I guess I'm just the lucky one...)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
(I'm never the lucky one.)  
  
Downstairs, beneath the apartment above "Kitty in the House," Ken is sitting alone behind the front counter, surrounded by darkness save the growing light filtering in from outside. Naturally, the humble flower shop is closed on a Sunday, but somehow the restless brunette was up and about even before his older teammate above him was awake, and he, too, catches the sight of Aiko leaving the shop across the street.   
  
This vision stirs a very different array of thoughts, however. (Why did I have to be the one to meet Somali first?) Ken thinks scornfully, dismissing what significance Aiko's presence might have. (Nori...damn her! If one of the others had come across her first, maybe she wouldn't have so much desire to tear me down everytime we see each other. What's her problem, anyway!? I didn't do anything!)  
  
An angered fist slams down on the countertop, reddening the skin in an area that always seems to take the blunt of its owner's aggressions. Absentmindedly, Ken tugs at the collar of his blue, button-down shirt to protect himself from the slight cold of morning. At this instinctive act, he instantly longs for the cozy comfort of "Kitten's Cafe" and all its charm, drifting his thoughts back to the first moment he had seen the woman who is so intently plaguing his mind.  
  
(She looked so...radiant then...gentle...) he sighs, chocolate hair becoming mused as he swiftly shakes his head to clear out those treacherous thoughts. (And then she had to open her big, fat mouth and demean me for existing! Urrg, why can't I stop thinking about her?! We're going to be working together for the same goals. Everything will change after this...and all I can think about is how much I want to -!)  
  
Like all buildings do with a shift in temperature, the shop chooses to breathe at just that moment, creaking slightly as the warmth of the sun begins to penetrate the cold from the night before. Startled, Ken's mind is unexpectedly cleared by this trifling jolt, and he feels so foolish for carrying on and acting like a child when deep down he knows what he must do.  
  
(Listen to me...I'm such an idiot!) he reprimands himself. (I just have to go over there and talk this out with her...)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
(...just talk this out with her...no big deal...) Ken's flustered thoughts ramble on as he reaches "Kitten's" door, his hand trembling during the small trek from his side to the handle. (They're closed today, too, and she's the type of person to be up this early...right? Maybe this is a mistake...no! If I don't do this, we'll end up ripping each others' heads off, and I kinda like mine where it is, thank you. I *have* to do this.)  
  
With difficult resolution, the young brunette grabs the handle tightly, carefully turning it as he pushes on the wooden door.  
  
An instant rush of warm air greets him, tingling over his skin. There is a savory scent of cinnamon as he steps inside, closing the door behind him as quietly as he can, and it reminds him that in his haste he had neglected to eat breakfast.  
  
(I suppose asking for something from the cafe stand on their day off wouldn't be the best way to start a conversation, would it?) Ken questions, hoping to humor his dreading mood.  
  
No such luck.  
  
It doesn't appear he'll have anyone to start up a conversation with anyway; the lights are dim and eerie, much like the atmosphere of "Kitty in the House" when everyone is asleep. But, if that is the case, and everyone is still in bed, why had the door been unlocked...?  
  
"Do you have a reason for being here, or should I add breaking and entering to your long list of faults?"  
  
Ken tenses, recognizing the voice all too well as a very awake and angry Kei Nori steps out from behind a bookshelf to his right. Though quite alert, it does appear the blue-haired, young woman has just recently woken up, for her tight curls are tousled in every which way, there are no glasses upon her face to narrow her gaze any more than it already is - as if it needed such a thing - and she is wearing nothing but a shimmery, navy robe.  
  
"I...I just came by...to talk to you..." Ken stammers, feeling an awkward urge *not* to stare at her in fear of what she might infer next.  
  
"Lucky me." Nori replies sarcastically, hands impatiently on her slender hips. "How did you get in here, anyway?"  
  
All conviction lost, Ken fumbles for an answer, feeling more foolish than he has in a very long time. "The door...it was unlocked...I swear it was..."  
  
"Wonderful. Aiko forgets to lock the door behind her, and I get stuck with *you*."  
  
Ken remains immobile as the irate girl sweeps past him, turning the lock with an annoyed clang as she reaches it. Holding in a deep sigh, he can't help being thankful that she didn't throw him out of it first. He certainly wouldn't have put it past her.  
  
"Well?" she prompts, after glaring at him for quite some time. "You said you came to talk to me, didn't you? So talk!"  
  
The cozy feel of the room feels suddenly unbearably hot and uncomfortable. On the way over, Ken had worked this all out in his mind; just calmly talk to her and figure out why she is so set against him. That way they can get through this mission without ripping each other apart. Simple...right?  
  
"I...well, I..."  
  
"Spill it already, you simpering idiot!"  
  
That is the final insult. "Damnit! Why the hell do you hate me so much!?!" Ken bellows, caught up in the moment of electricity between them. "All I ever did was ask for a book, and ever since then you've treated me like...like...like I don't have a right to exist! Believe me, you're no ray of sunshine with the others, but why do I get the shitty treatment? We're on the same side, you -"  
  
"I never wanted you to be on our side!" Nori cuts in, stepping close enough for their noses to be within inches of each others. "I have one reason for being apart of this mission, and it has nothing to do with you!"  
  
Ken is beside himself in disbelief. Once again she has boiled his temper way beyond the breaking point. "What reason? You think it's any more important than ours? You think you're better than us, that you've suffered more and experienced more pain than we have? Is that it!?"  
  
"Yes!!" she answers firmly, with a scream powerful enough to knock a grown man off his feet, and nearly does exactly that to Ken.  
  
How anyone could be filled with so much bitter, angry emotion, and seemingly nothing else, is more than a mystery, it's a horror. Life was never meant to be easy - something Ken has known for quite some time - but it certainly wasn't meant to be...Hell. No, most definitely not.   
  
So, why does it almost always feel like it is?  
  
Though Ken's determination is wavering in the face of this infuriated beauty, Nori is livid with animation that would frighten anyone to the point of running the other direction. "Do you know what it's like to loose everything and everyone you have ever cared about, and to be powerless to stop it?" she speaks in a fierce whisper, believing beyond a doubt that whatever answers Ken might give her, they couldn't possibly be yes. "Do you know what it feels like to have your family ripped away? To be abandoned and alone for no reason? To have your...to have someone you love slip away...without ever getting the chance to say goodbye...?"  
  
Could those sparkles of light in Nori's haunting, silver eyes be the beginning of tears? Ken is certain he heard her breathy voice break several times while she berated him once again, so it is possible, though a very unexpected development indeed. As he looks back at her, the weary flame of rage within him is quickly turning to...understanding. Perhaps he and this young woman have something in common after all.  
  
Realizing this epiphany of truth, Ken answers her softly, with deep remorse. "Yes." comes his tender voice, though he barely hears it himself. "I do know. I know exactly how that feels."  
  
Clearly, Nori did not expect this heartfelt, honest reply, as her features soften, allowing one of those struggling tears to roll down her pale cheek without resistance.  
  
"Surprised?" Ken questions, giving her a small smile. "I thought you were supposed to know everything about us? But...even the guys don't know...I had a family once, too. I had...a brother once...a life...outside of soccer and all the crap that messed it up for me."   
  
"A brother...?" prompts a kindly voice, so the opposite of its previous malice, Ken is in slight disbelief that it came from the woman in front of him.  
  
"Yeah..." Ken replies vaguely, unfocusing his eyes with the memory of it. "...I had a brother. My parents didn't live to see my J-League days, but...Toshiro...he was with me through everything. We grew up in a missionary after our parents died, and he took care of me. I wouldn't have even known what a soccer ball was if it hadn't been for him. He had so much faith in my skill, my dreams, and he was the only person in the world who believed me when I swore I hadn't thrown that game."  
  
Nori seems confused, her normal countenance completely disrupted as she voices her inability to comprehend this. "But you joined Weiss almost immediately after that incident. There would have been something about your brother in the files."  
  
"I know...I know very little time passed before I joined Weiss after being charged with gambling on the games..." he answers, looking intently into Nori's metallic eyes. "...but it was enough...enough for there to be nothing left of Toshiro to report *on* when I did."   
  
The look on the navy-haired, young woman's face as Ken traces the details of her features with his eyes, makes him wonder how he ever found her infuriating. There is something so...motherly, so much the caretaker in her expression. It reminds him of how beautiful he found her that first time he saw her amongst the stacks.  
  
"I had a brother once, too..." Nori reveals suddenly, a gentleness remaining in her voice far more fitting for such a graceful creature. "That's why I...why I've been singling you out. Granted, you're right that I seldom am...kind...to anyone, but with you I..." she pauses, furrowing her brow as she traces the lines of his face, just as he continues to trace hers. "...you remind me so much of him...I...I can't...it's not that you look like him, or sound like him, but...you feel like him somehow, and...when I'm around you...it brings back all the fear and anger I felt when he left me..."  
  
"Left you...?" Ken repeats thoughtfully, on the brim of true understanding. "Your brother didn't die...did he?"  
  
This question, more a statement than anything, sends a ripple of darkness over Nori's features, forcing her to avert her eyes and look purposefully at the floor. "He is alive...somewhere...and I am going to find him. I am going to grab him by the throat and demand to know why he abandoned me! Why...why I had to be alone...for so long...never knowing why...never having told him....goodbye...or...or that I loved him..."  
  
There is no question this time whether tears are filling Nori's eyes, and slowly they begin falling like gentle rain down her face. Honestly, Ken couldn't think more highly of her for releasing them.  
  
Knowing that more words is not what is needed right now, Ken crosses the slight gap between them in a step, wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders and pulling her close in a single, fluid motion. Nori does not resist this brave act of comfort, but gives in willingly, leaning her head on his shoulder as she frees the emotions held bottled up inside for far longer than any ever should be.  
  
Within this strange, new intimacy, Ken takes a small moment to ponder the humor in how this incredible creature before him is nearly an inch taller than he is. About the same height as Ran and his twin figure Aiko, he imagines.   
  
Brushing off these thoughts, however, Ken holds Nori all the more tightly and tenderly, overjoyed that this encounter has not turned to blows as he thought it might, and contented even more in finally having someone know such a prescious secret.   
  
This day does indeed spark with new beginnings. New choices, new chances, and...new fears...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"No fear, Nanami. Do you understand?"  
  
Misleading rays of golden sunlight illuminate the clearing of a secret flower field, surrounded by thickly branched trees. Despite the cloudless, brilliant sky, the day is chilly, brisk, and much more like the remnants of winter than the hope of summer heat. Uncaring of the weather, nevertheless, a young girl with hair and eyes the color of a Caribbean sea sits comfortably upon a blanket in the very center of thriving flowers, with a delicate shawl wrapped tightly around her. Beside the girl is another young woman, slightly older, with bare shoulders, though she seems quite impartial to the cold.  
  
"I...I understand, Aiko-chan." Toto answers the red-head next to her. "I'm not afraid...just nervous."  
  
Rosuto Aiko smiles warmly back at her companion, compassionately taking the timid girl's hands in her own. "It's alright to be apprehensive about this, Nanami. I'm only asking that you not allow yourself to *fear* this change. Be tentative - a very intelligent trait in new situations - but don't let that emotion stop you from accomplishing what you want."  
  
Since the very break of day, Aiko has been in deep conversation with this child-like figure she has come to know in so short a time. Their previous meeting had lasted hours, talking of past pain, recent fears, and hope for a new start in life which Toto had long ago been robbed of.   
  
It is a tragedy to imagine such a sweet, caring girl going through what she went through, and at such a young age. Losing her mother to be left in the care of a disturbed and abusive father, Toto had had to grow up far too quickly. So, naturally, she chose to revert - step back in time - and become the child she had never been allowed to be. All of this, completely subconsciously done, will be a great challenge to break through if Toto is ever going to become the woman she is meant to be.   
  
Luckily for her, there is someone quite eager to take up that challenge.  
  
"You're too nice to me. I don't deserve this." Toto whimpers, tugging the corners of her shawl more firmly around her.  
  
"No, Nanami, that's not true at all." Aiko rebukes, purely glowing with inner warmth. "How can you think you don't deserve the chance at a real life? A happy life...with Nagi by your side?"  
  
Teal eyes clench shut in shame. "Because...I listened to Papa Masafumi, and...hurt all those people..."  
  
"It's not your fault you were blinded by your gratitude. He did save you from further scars, after all."  
  
"But...I...I-"  
  
"You are an extraordinary person, Nanami." Aiko cuts in intently, yet still with such gentleness. "Everyone does things in their lives they regret, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't have a chance at making up for those mistakes. This isn't about pity, or...my wanting to alter someone who is beyond help, because you're not." she pauses slightly, allowing a sly smirk to enter her expression. "Do you know what the most powerful force in this world is, Nanami? Something that within itself makes a person worth redemption?"  
  
Liquid eyes stare back at the confident, red-haired woman as Toto tilts her head questioningly, not sure how to answer.  
  
"It's really quite simple, you know?" Aiko grins, standing suddenly, and skipping a few feet away with a peculiar spring in her step. "It's love!" she cries out, giggling like a child herself. "Love, Nanami. Just love. And you love Nagi, don't you? You want to be with him - live back in the bustle of life with him - both surrounded by friends who love you as well. Don't you?"  
  
Toto nods furiously, the corners of her mouth beginning to twitch, mirroring Aiko's grin, as she slowly rises to join her exuberant and dauntless new friend.  
  
"Then there is hope." Aiko states, taking Toto's hands again as the two meet. "And hope is all anyone needs."   
  
The cold has faded away as the sun rises higher overhead, and two young women find joy in simplicity, chasing each other around the edges of the flower field like little girls without a care in the world.   
  
It doesn't matter how old or wise we get as years pass. What matters is that we remember when it is perfectly glorious to be a child again, and...when it would be most wise to hold on to our adult senses of perception...  
  
As Aiko dances past Toto once again, twirling freely with the will of the wind, she doesn't notice the small, misplaced stone about to disrupt her step...nor does she notice the figure coming through the trees...until landing softly at his feet after tripping over it.  
  
A pair of small, grey shoes stare back at Aiko as she clears her slightly blurred vision from tumbling, and as she raises her head to see who these still feet belong to, she is met by the twisted and enraged face of a young boy with unruly, brown hair and cold, blue eyes.  
  
(Nagi...)  
  
Before Aiko can even think of what she might say, a sudden rush of air and weightlessness overcomes her body, and she very distinctly feels herself leaving the safety of the soft grass as she is raised up into the air.  
  
"YOU!!" Naoe Nagi howls, throwing his arms up towards Aiko like a shot, which sends her flying backwards, yards through the air, until slamming up again the trunk of a rather large tree, where she remains painfully pinned a few feet above the ground. "You're the one from the warehouse! The one Crawford says will destroy us!"  
  
"Nagi-kun, no!!" comes Toto's panicked scream as she rushes towards him. "She's my friend! Don't hurt her! It's that evil Crawford-san who's the bad one, not Aiko-chan!"  
  
These deeply felt words prove only to infuriate Nagi more, and he stalks slowly across the field towards Aiko's contorted form with murder in his eyes. "Is that what you're doing here? Trying to turn Toto against me!!"  
  
"...no...you don't understand...Crawford is...lying to you..." Aiko chokes out through grimaces of pain. "...Nanami...tell him..."  
  
Aghast - feeling truly betrayed - Nagi looks to Toto, still unflinching as he keeps Aiko pinned against the tree.  
  
"Listen, Nagi-kun." Toto whispers, in answer to those pleading eyes. "She wants to help us. Crawford-san is making you do things you don't have to. I...I want to be with you, but he keeps you away. Don't you want to be with me...?"   
  
This is a sharp, wrenching blow, and Nagi visibly flinches from the force of it. "Of course I want to be with you, Toto." he replies, struggling to clear his throbbing mind. "But...how can you trust her? You have to understand, Crawford has seen her and those who follow her destroying Schwartz. His visions never fail."  
  
"I do understand, Nagi-kun. Aiko-chan told me herself she wants to destroy Schwartz, and I hope she does!"  
  
Nagi is taken aback by this, withdrawing away from Toto as she had from him only a few days before. "You would...let her kill me...?"  
  
An eerie silence knifes through the flower field as an electric pulse of energy begins to wrap around them, emanating from Nagi's breaking heart. Still untrained in fully controlling his power, it flows out of him like a current to crush anyone in its wake when his emotions are beyond his control.  
  
"No...Nagi-kun...please, listen..."  
  
But he cannot hear her. All he hears is the memories of words he has heard for years on end, thrashing at his remaining humanity.   
  
'...remember Hate...you were abandoned...unloved...the world never wanted you...you are a freak in the eyes of others...no one will ever accept you...everyone will turn against you in the end...only *we* are connected...those of us who know the world's chill...remember...remember Hate...'   
  
Crawford's voice continues to echo in Nagi's mind, deafening out all sound, just as his tears blind him from seeing the truth right before his eyes.   
  
Aiko has fallen to the ground beside the tree now - Nagi's attention having been drawn away - and she gasps for breath on hands and knees, unable to speak up in defense one way or another. Toto is left to face Nagi alone, vainly trying to make him understand what seems so clear and easy to her.  
  
(What did I tell ya, kid? Should've fucked her when you had the chance.)  
  
Pounding into Nagi's already pulsing mind, Schuldrich's nasal voice pushes the misguided boy over the edge completely with those crude words. He clutches the sides of his head, falling to his knees as the flowers and grass at his feet explode away with a forcefulness he rarely is powerful enough to produce.  
  
Backpedaling swiftly, Toto lets out a fearful scream as she watches Nagi struggle with this sudden loss of control, but her fear quickly builds into something much more than concern as two more figures appear from within the surrounding trees.   
  
As always, Schuldrich and Farfarello have followed Nagi on his visit, sent specifically by Crawford to keep an eye out for someone unexpected who might show up at the flower field. That's right, the only reason poor Nagi was allowed to come and see Toto today, though he had thought it would be weeks until he could again, was because Crawford predicted a new playmate would make an appearance.   
  
"Just like I told you, Farfie." Schu purrs as he walks into the clearing, heading straight for Aiko at the base of that large tree. "And you thought we'd leave empty handed."  
  
Farfarello tosses a slightly intrigued glance at Nagi as the two of them pass the pain-stricken boy, but his feet do not falter as they close in near the fallen red-head.  
  
Only a few feet from Aiko herself, Toto tenses, realizing what is about to happen. Schwartz is going to take someone away from her again...   
  
"No!" she cries. "Aiko-chan, you have to get up! Please get up! I...I don't want to lose everyone again! Please!"  
  
"Now, now, little girl." Schu reprimands, advancing all the more with his slow, purposeful steps. "I won't hurt you for the kid's sake, but you better stay out our way if you don't want me to change my mind."  
  
Aiko has cleared her head as best she can by now, and looks up from her hunched over position on the ground, taking note of the two members of Schwartz only a few yards away.  
  
(...I'm such a fool...) she curses herself, struggling to get to her feet. (...the other night it would have been eight against four...but now I'm on my own...no weapon...nothing but myself and my powers. But how can I use them...? No, I can't! I'll run! I have to run!)  
  
With one final glance at Toto, Aiko turns on her heals, sprinting into the thick of trees as fast as her aching muscles can carry her. A haunting sound of laughter and the echo of a frightening, almost inhuman howl, call after her as she dodges branches and tree stumps, not bothering to follow the well cleared path in hopes she might lose her hunters and somehow escape. The weary red-head knows there is little chance of that, however. She is exhausted from Nagi's attack, and the men who follow her are not only alert, but incredibly fast.  
  
So fast, in fact, that Schuldrich suddenly jumps out from behind a tree a few feet in front of Aiko, after she had made her way almost halfway through the forest, and now blocks her path with a devastating smirk.  
  
"Is that any way to begin a proper introduction?" he teases, jade eyes ready to follow her every movement as Aiko comes to a rough stop in front of him. "We just wanna have a little fun, after all. Ya see, you...you're gonna help us change the world." he pauses, grinning into her stricken features, and then suddenly looks past her, addressing someone unseen at her back. "Isn't that right...Farfie?"  
  
Before Aiko can turn to face the figure she knows is just behind her, pale, scarred arms wrap around her body with shocking strength, forcing the air from her already winded lungs. Almost instantly, the lack of oxygen causes her vision to blur. She is already beaten, and she knows it. The one thing that might have saved her before things got this far, she had not been able to bring herself to use. And so, Rosuto Aiko slips off into unconsciousness, becoming the prized possession of the very people she has sworn to save.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The world is suddenly turned upside down, because there is someone who needs to be saved.  
  
"Kitty in the House" had proven to be quite peaceful for the remainder of the day. The shop itself was closed, of course, and the inhabitants of the apartment above had something to look forward to for the first time in longer than any of them could remember.  
  
A future.  
  
Everyone - except for Ken, who has been mysteriously missing since morning - is seated around the living room, absorbed in various activities. Omi is playing around on his laptop, surfing the Internet, though not for porn as Youji suggested; Yotan, after being refused the chance to surf himself, is sitting in his favorite armchair enjoying a movie; and Ran and Aya are surprisingly enjoying it with him, despite the surrealness of such an event.   
  
Knowing that Ken is more than likely over at "Kitten's Cafe," no one is really worried about what the ex-J-leaguer is doing. At least, they hadn't given it too much thought...until he - along with three very panicked members of Fluesternd - came bursting into the room.  
  
All eyes train in on the out of breath group as they stumble through the doorway, everyone anxiously waiting for someone to give an explanation as to what has caused such a disruption in their peaceful day. Finally, Hiromi steps forward, a very serious look on her usually cheerful features.  
  
"We have a problem."  
  
  
*****A/N***** Ooo, now it is really getting interesting! I love cliff-hangers. :-) Anyhoo, thanks for the reviews - constructive critisism and praise - and please keep reading. I am so glad you guys aren't letting the OC stuff drive you away, because they just belonged in the story, even if I usually don't like them either. Ja!! 


	8. 8

*****8*****  
  
  
Does anyone really want to exist?  
  
Sure, there is that annoying survival-of-the-fittest instict. You know, the will to live and desire to succeed in life, despite what a load of shit most of it is half the time. But, does anyone actually want to live? Look deep inside yourself and ask a simple question:  
  
Are you happy?  
  
Are you? Maybe you think you are, but it's really just an illusion. A false sense of smiles your mind has created to help you cope with the Hell that is your pointless existance.  
  
Hmmm, sounds a bit bitter and disturbing, doesn't it? Sounds...hopeless?  
  
Ah, yes. Hope. We can't forget about that, can we? Where would we be without it, after all? I mean, if life really is a series of horrible events with only a few specs of true happiness to keep us going, what would be the point without hope? Without the hope of that next tini, tiny particle of joy we just might stumble upon tomorrow?   
  
Or, maybe we won't. But, if there is hope, then we have something. Something to live for. A reason to wake up in the morning, go about our regular routines each day, and collapse into bed at night - with someone to cuddle up with, if we're lucky.  
  
That's a bit better, isn't it? Maybe we all do want to go on living after all, and it's not just some cruel, imaginary joke.  
  
Then again, if someone lost that hope, or perhaps, never really had it to begin with, would *they* want to go on living?  
  
Maybe...just maybe...they would wish they had never been alive at all...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"It was just as you said, Bradley. There she was, just waiting for us to whisk her away."  
  
There is a chill in the air, not from any form of cold, but from the shiver of darkness that trembles in the hearts of the young men within this small, seemingly endless room, with stars and a black sky for walls.  
  
Rising from the computer desk - a familiar, ancient-looking book left open next to the keyboard - Brad Crawford steps towards the now open door as his fellow Schwartz enter. To his cruel pleasure, Schuldrich is carrying the very person Brad expected to see again today.  
  
Rosuto Aiko.  
  
"Excellent." the American grins. "It was too soon to take her the other night. I knew she would give us another opportunity, though. Her good-nature will be the end of her, I think."  
  
Schu easily mirrors Brad's hungry smirk, both devilishly deciding what to do with the red-haired, young woman until the time comes when they will need her. On the other hand, their teammates are in quite different states of mind.   
  
Nagi is aching from head to toe and inside-out. His heart is dark, mourning for a love he believes he has lost. As he left the flower field behind to join Schuldrich and Farfarello, the young brunette would not even turn his head to acknowledge Toto's desperate cries. He is betrayed - at least in his own mind - and he slumps against the wall, overcome by images of turquoise hair and a smile that could outshine the sun.  
  
A chaotic mind also filled with thoughts of one, unique woman, proves that Farfarello is deeply entranced by Aiko's presence, yearning to release what has been building within him for so long. "Let me have her..." the albino pleads in a dangerous whisper, craning his neck to peer around Schuldrich's shoulder for a better look.  
  
Brad's smile immediately dissipates, his features hardening. "Out of the question. She is too valuable to us."  
  
"Let me...let me have her..." Farfarello speaks again, his tawny eye unable to leave the form of this potential victim. "I won't endanger our objective. I can...still make up for many things through her...without ending her life...completely..."  
  
The stone expression on Brad's face proves he is far from allowing such a thing, but the need, the extreme craving in the Irishman's golden eye is enough for anyone to realize he isn't about to back down either.  
  
Noticing this friction, and tasting the raw emotions Farfarello is so freely releasing into thought, Schuldrich decides to intervene. "Why not let him have the girl, Bradley?" he prompts earnestly, still dawning his treasured smirk. "His room is the safest one in the whole place, after all. There's no chance of escape from down there."  
  
"And risk loosing her when she is the only one who can fulfill our directive?!" Brad counters, turning away from the others in a huff. "I know what he wishes to do with her, but she will be of no use to us not breathing!"  
  
(No...you promised me...) Farfarello's mind lashes out at Schuldrich sharply, barely in control as he senses he is about to lose this prospective playmate. (...I....need this...you promised...you promised...)  
  
As if anyone could dismiss such pleading thoughts.  
  
"Come on, Bradley." Schu pushes in a whining voice, which makes it sound even more nasal than usual. "Wouldn't want our puppy to turn around and bite us, would we? He's getting stir crazy down there with nothing to do. Just let him have her. He won't take things too far. I promise. I'll keep my mind's eye on them the whole time."  
  
Brad turns back to them, still hesitant, but the unrelenting look on Schu's face is more than anyone could stand, not to mention the deranged panic coursing though Farfarello's veins, which is causing him to tense up in a rather terrifying manner.   
  
"...fine." their leader concedes at long last, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "But...if anything - ANYTHING - happens to her that might hinder her from completing this, *you* are taking the blame, Schuldrich. Understood?"  
  
With a grand bow - or at least as much of one as he can manage with someone in his arms - Schu expresses his profound gratitude, tossing Farfie a playful, contented grin as he does, and then motions for the pale, young man to follow him as he slips out the door.  
  
Brad watches them leave with lingering apprehension, barely taking notice of Nagi's still and silent form against the far wall, but he swiftly pushes all fear and doubt aside.  
  
They have her now. The final link in completing their ultimate goal is in their possession. As soon as the text they acquired from those helpful, hired thieves is translated, everything will be ready, and no one - not even Weiss or Fleusternd - can stop them if things continue to be set in motion.  
  
The end is near.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The end is only the beginning.  
  
A sickening smell of blood and sweat clings to the padded walls of the basement room, deepening its dark, deadly aura. Much pain has been felt from within this cramped space, and if all goes accordingly, tonight will be no exception.  
  
"Now, you two play nice." Schu grins with an undertone of cruel laughter, gently laying the still unconscious member of Fluesternd on Farfarello's bed. Farfie barely acknowledges his jade-eyed friend, merely stepping past him to stare down at this treasured guest. "No need to thank me, or anything." the German adds sarcastically.  
  
Raising a whitened eyebrow, Farfarello turns to look at Schuldrich curiously, which is as much of a show of gratitude as can be expected. Schu answers this with an intrigued exhale of air, turning his own gaze from Farf - to Aiko - and back again.  
  
"Why do you want her so much, Farfie?"  
  
Such a sudden, point-blank question causes the intent albino to hesitate, as he too looks from the prize on his bed - back to Schuldrich's waiting stare and constant smirk. "I thought you could read minds."  
  
This causes Schu to laugh deeply, throwing back his head in a wave of sunset strands. When the humor of Farfarello's statement finally leaves him, he simply stares into his friend's single, owl eye, as if looking right through him a moment, until a twisted smile returns to his already twisted features.  
  
"That's what I love about you, Farf." Schu states happily, heading for the still open door. "So single-minded. So...predictable. But in the most delicious way. Hehe. Have fun..."  
  
The German's continued, chilling laughter follows him down the hallway as he leaves Farfarello in peace. However, as Farfie watches the telepath's retreating form, the half-hidden figure of a small, delicate boy, peering into the room cautiously, catches his attention.  
  
A trembling buzz of anxiety and restlessness hovers around the Irishman. Oh, how he longs to set to work; to return to a favored past time he has been deprived of for many unbearable months. He wishes this intruder would leave him alone.  
  
"Farfarello..." a small, melancholy voice dares to call into the cell-like room. "...I can't read minds."  
  
Nagi - his ice-blue eyes much sadder than they have been in a long time - enters the muggy, unclosed space with tentative steps. This is the first time he has been in Farfarello's room.  
  
"So...since I can't look for myself..." the young boy continues, enable to meet the golden eye boring back at him. "...why? Why do you want her so much?"  
  
Tightening his grip on the dagger he has already slipped from his pocket, Farfarello is shaking, on the edge of losing control of his eerily calm demeanor. "You...don't need to read my mind...to know...why..."  
  
"I know you want to hurt her." Nagi pushes on bravely, staying close to the wall as he enters completely. "But...why? Why do you enjoy it? Why do you have to hurt her...or yourself...or anyone?"  
  
(You don't really want to know...little boy...) Farfarello's swiftly faltering mind ponders, almost angrily. (...I'd give you nightmares...hehehe...maybe I should...maybe I should tell you what you think you want to know...and *He* will weep a little more for you...for the shadows that will haunt you in your sleep...)  
  
Taking slow, purposeful steps away from the bedside, Farfarello begins closing in on Nagi now that the boy has distanced himself from the safety of the door. A slight shimmer of fear ripples through the smaller boy's veins as he tries to decipher what the look in Farfie's dangerous eye means, especially considering the way his fingers so intently - almost with revolting tenderness - caress the edge of the glinting blade in his hand.  
  
"You want to know...you say..." Farfarello whispers in a frightening tone. "...you want...to know...why I love the look of fear in someone's eyes...why I cherish the feeling of their blood between my fingers...even when it is my own...?"  
  
Nagi forms himself to the wall, pressed against it in fear of his teammate and that deadly dagger. The albino shows no sign of backing down, however - to the boy's dismay - but grabs hold of Nagi's wrist roughly with his free hand, pressing it up above the brunette's head and into the coarse padding of the wall.  
  
"You want to know...why I love pain...even when I can no longer feel it myself...?" he rants on, taking little care to the tears of discomfort and terror falling from Nagi's eyes. "...because...*He* loathes it...that's why...I make Him cry and scream...for His misled children...those who love Him blindly...so He can feel the kind of pain I felt...so He can hate me the way I hate Him..." Pale, scarred lips are now centimeters from Nagi's ear. "...hate me...yes...for how much I revel in causing others to suffer...hehehehe...does that answer your question...little Prodigy...?"  
  
Nagi's tears have become panicked and hauntingly audible as he writhes to free his aching wrist from his team mate's painful grip. "...Farfarello...you're hurting me...please..."  
  
"...hurting...you...?" thick lips repeat vaguely, still so close to Nagi's shivering body.  
  
An agonizing moment of pause filters through the dank room, gripping both of them mercilessly. Eventually, the urge to do more than frighten begins to take over Farfarello's mind, and he thinks longingly of the girl on his bed, knowing that if he dared to truly hurt poor Naoe Nagi, Brad would do alot more than just punish him.  
  
Farfarello slowly releases Nagi's wrist, stepping away from the frail boy. "Get out." he commands softly, but with deep authority and intent.  
  
Still frozen in fear, Nagi does not move. He can't.  
  
"Get out!" Farfarello shouts, much more forcefully, raising his dagger as his will to control his actions quickly fades.  
  
Nagi still cannot find his feet, but remains trembling, his breathing speeding rapidly.  
  
This continued temptation of a young and innocent victim is more than Farfarello can bear. In a desperate attempt to stop himself from staining such soft skin in crimson red, he suddenly lets out a piercing howl, thrashing about the room and tearing madly at the walls.  
  
At last, this show of true madness is enough to return control of his legs to the unfortunate brunette, and Nagi sprints from the room, desperate tears left to stain the cold floor.  
  
A few minutes of blind wrath pass before Farfarello realizes he is alone. Well, almost alone. A silent, slumbering young woman is dozing away on his bed, just waiting to be tainted by his bloodthirsty intentions.  
  
Out of breath as he holds onto the gleaming handle of his dagger with a sweaty palm, Farfie stops his uncontrollable rampage with a sudden jolt, finding himself face to face with the bed. The weapon of choice he is holding so fiercely is not his usual thin knife with a half-moon handle, but the silver-etched gift from Schuldrich. It, too, longs to have its turn.   
  
Farfarello shudders; time to play.  
  
His eye fixed intensely on Aiko's unconscious body, Farfie slowly climbs onto the bed - careful not to touch her just yet - and slips in behind her to lay with his back against the wall. The lovely red-head is lying face up, a few stray locks of fiery hair covering her face, and she does not stir as he gently grasps her shoulder with one hand to pin her down, while the other holds his dagger against her skin.  
  
The ivory-haired young man wouldn't even dream of doing something to this poor creature while she sleeps. What fun is there in playing if the playmate isn't awake to react? No, he will wait for those uncanny, violet eyes to flicker before he makes his move.   
  
If only she would rise now, and save him the ache of waiting. Luckily, his patience will not be tried much longer, for it seems the presence of cold metal against her neck might be enough to rouse Aiko all on its own.   
  
(...yes...wake up, little firefly...)  
  
A soft groan escapes Aiko's lips as she tosses and turns against Farfarello's hold on her. Long eyelashes twitch and shimmer as her eyes begin to flutter open, wearied and confused as she wills herself awake.  
  
The smallest, most fleeting moment passes as the red-head attempts to examine where she is, struggling to remember the recent events of her life. Only a moment, though, for that is all it takes before the unmistakable sight of white hair and a single tawny eye so close to her brings everything back in a rush of panic.  
  
Farfarello returns her frightened stare with an eerily deranged smile, bending in so close to her, his lips almost brush against her skin as he whispers. "Do you believe in God...?"  
  
Her body tenses beneath him, straining to remain calm in such a hopeless situation. "...yes..." she breathes in answer, barely with enough breath to be heard.  
  
Cold satisfaction glints in Farfarello's eye as he pushes on. "And...do you love your God...? Do you praise Him...praise His son...as all foolish Christians do...?"  
  
"Yes." her low-toned voice replies immediately this time - steadier.  
  
"...why...?"  
  
Aiko cringes, refusing to let this conversation steer in the direction her captor wishes it to go. "Why not?"  
  
Most certainly, this is not the answer Farfarello expected. 'Because of this...Because of that...' Even an, 'I don't know...' would have made sense. But, *this* answer is not pleasing. In fact...  
  
"That isn't an answer." Farfarello hisses, lifting his head slightly, but pressing the dagger all the more deeply into Aiko's neck. "I've asked this before...why His treasured lambs follow and adore such a...father of lies. I want *your* answer...a real answer..."  
  
"Why? No matter what I say it won't stop you from doing whatever it is you plan to do. Will it?" she counters.  
  
"Why?!" This is too much. "Because I *want* the answer, and you're going to give it to me!"  
  
Farfarello is beyond any rational thought. So much waiting, so much time alone to think...think thoughts he despises and wishes would go away. It had all boiled up inside of him for months now, and the pressure is ready to pop.  
  
"I...I'll give you one...but you're not going to like it..." Aiko concedes, flinching in pain as she shivers from the feel of cold steel against her skin. The force of the blade stings as it begins to draw blood, and she can feel a tiny drop of it sliding down her neck. "I...I love God...because He loves me...I praise Him...because He created all the wonders of the world...just for me...and just for everyone else. Even...even just for you...Jei."  
  
Crash. It is as if the sound of shattering glass suddenly fills the room on Aiko's last word, on that familiar - yet unfamiliar - name. Farfarello's golden eye gleams in the shallow light of the room, and he unexpectedly pulls the silver dagger away from Aiko's throat, almost sitting up as he stares down at her, frozen.  
  
(That's right...I know who you are...) Aiko thinks with a small smile of triumph. (I know who you *really* are...Jei...and I will not leave you to this madness...to all this suffering you believe you love...when I know the kind and gentle creature Ruth told me about...is burried somewhere inside of you...waiting for me to find him...)  
  
"How...how do you know that name...?" Farfarello breathes, oddly troubled by something so simple.  
  
"I know quite a bit about you, Jei." Aiko answers tenderly. "Your mother told me all about you, though it was a long time ago."  
  
Now it is Farfie's turn to shiver. "My...mother...?"  
  
"Yes. Your wonderful, loving mother, Jei. She cared very deeply for you. Cared so much, she asked me to come and help you. And I am. I am going to help you realize you do not need this mask of madness anymore. You do not need pain, or suffering, or any of it. Together we can..."   
  
Aiko trails off, cut off by the haunting, deep laughter beginning to echo from the young man beside her. Farfarello is not touched, or moved, or changed in any way by her words - as she had hoped - but finds bitter amusement in her foolish ambitions.  
  
"Jei..." Aiko tries, realizing her impact is not what she had meant it to be. Sadly, Farfarello silences her with the pressure of a scarred finger to her lips.  
  
Once again, the dangerous Irishman bends in close to Aiko, his slender body pressed against her own even more than before as he lifts one leg over to the other side of the bed and lowers his full weight unto hers. Against her will, Aiko's breath quickens; she is completely at his disposal.  
  
"You speak sweet words...but I don't buy them..." Farfie whispers into her ear. "You think...you know me...but you don't...I am not that misled, little boy anymore...I will no longer worship a God...who abandoned me..."  
  
"...that isn't true...He-"  
  
"Shhh..." he cuts off her final attempt at salvation, sliding the blade down against her body until it reaches the exposed skin at her thigh from the slit in her skirt. "I want to hear you scream...little kitty...scream for all His angels to hear you..."  
  
Aiko takes a deep breath, a breath that seems to last forever, suspended out of time, away from this unbearable moment. But as often as we wish time would stop, holding stationary in our greatest - yes, even in our most horrid - moments, it never does.  
  
With brutal force, Farfarello suddenly plunges the dagger deep into Aiko's thigh, twisting it with a sickening crunch as his low laughter flutters like harsh feathers against the side of her face. And just as Farfie wanted...just as Schu predicted...Rosuto Aiko screams.  
  
"Yes...it has been so long...so long..." Farfarello rants, stroking the hair away from Aiko's face with his free hand. "Pain is beautiful...isn't it...like you...hehehe...He could weep forever for a creature like you...and He will...when you help us...He will scream so loud...even *I* will be able to hear Him...at last...and until then...you belong to me..."  
  
Farfarello wrenches the dagger from Aiko's leg, savoring the renewed scream she releases into the air, and holds it up to the light to gaze fondly at the sticky, crimson liquid staining the blade. But...before he can make even the smallest movement more...  
  
(Sorry to interrupt your fun, Farfie, but I'm afraid you'll have to put playtime on hold.)  
  
The white-haired young man starts at this sudden, mental intrusion, dropping the dagger with a soundless thud as it lands on the bed.  
  
(We have a little situation up here.) Schuldrich's mind-voice continues. (A bit of an infestation. Seems a few stray kittens have found their way to our door. Brad wants you up here now. I know you'd like a little more time, but you'll get it. She'll be right there waiting for you when you get back.)   
  
Those few words of encouragement do little to appease Farfarello, however, as he looks down at Aiko - at the glorious wound in her leg - hungry for more. "You're lucky...pretty kitty...someone has come to rescue you."  
  
(...nani...?) Aiko wonders, snapping to attention in utter disbelief, while still flinching from the pain in her leg. (Wait...Schuldrich must have given him a message...that's why...oh, please...let that mean the others -)  
  
"Don't fool yourself into thinking they will succeed in getting you back." Farfie continues, dashing her hopeful thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere...we have far too much to do..." He studies her, looking over every inch of her body - lingering most on his fresh piece of handiwork - and licks his lips slowly. Then, grabbing her shoulders roughly, he leans in to whisper. "...sleep well...and dream of all the tears He will shed for you...hehehehehehe..."  
  
That laughter, that low, frightening, soulless sound, is the last thing Aiko hears before her head is slammed violently against the wall next to the bed.  
  
And then...everything...goes black...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Everything is black.  
  
The walls, the floor, the sky...his heart...everything. Even the dreary remnants of his life. But there is more than mere sorrow clinging to Naoe Nagi's skin as he walks along the hallway. There is an engraved fear, a dreadful clawing at what remains of his blackened heart, forcing him forward in hopes of relieving the pain.  
  
Weiss and Fluesternd are outside, fighting to rescue their missing member. Though they wouldn't stand a chance at breaking in, Brad - along with Schuldrich and Farfarello - has gone out to give them a nice, warm welcome. How the groups managed to find Schwartz's new hideout is of little importance. They cannot get in - plain and simple. Three relentless hosts and countless wards of protection block their path, and if they cannot even cross the threshold, what hope is there that they will free their friend...?  
  
Brad has entrusted Nagi to watch over the beloved red-head who is on so many people's minds tonight, believing the white whispering can be handled without him. Therefore, to ensure Aiko doesn't somehow escape, the youngest member of the world's most dangerous enemy is once again slipping into Farfarello's padded room.  
  
(...I don't want to know what he's done to her...) Nagi's mind trembles, as the diminutive boy pushes the door open slowly, taking cautious steps. (...she screamed so loud before...I...I don't want to see...I don't want to see any of it...)  
  
A bloodied weapon from the unfortunate necessity of killing has yet to be added to the weight on Nagi's shoulders. He hacks through systems, transfers messages, does the occasional heavy lifting, and is even known to perform a few miracles. But the young brunette has never taken a life.  
  
(Maybe Crawford would trust me more...if I was like the others.) he reasons. (If I had the same...lust for these things, the way Schuldrich and Farfarello have, maybe he would tell me everything. I thought I knew what our purpose was once...thought I believed in what we were doing...but...I'm not like the others. The last time we met Weiss, I...I couldn't even imagine killing the one facing me. Not for anything...)  
  
Indeed, the only thing darling Prodigy had been able to do to his archetype - Bombay - was press him hard up against a pillar with his mind, just as he had done to Aiko earlier today. It may be something quite painful to experience, but it is far from a killing blow.  
  
Consumed by human curiosity, Nagi is compelled to move further into the room, coming around the side of the bed. He cannot help fearing what he will discover; it is all too easy for him to imagine what horrors his teammate must have put this woman through.   
  
To his great relief, the slumbering, young woman appears perfectly normal as Nagi approaches the bed. It is only after realizing he has stepped in an unmistakable, red substance dripping to the floor, that he notices the large wound in Aiko's leg.   
  
Nagi's stomach lurches forward. (...this...this is all we are, isn't it...?) he condemns, bringing a small hand up to his mouth as he backs away. (...just...killers...fighting in the name of Hate...in the belief that lies such as love and God do not exist...) Rarely shed, crystalline tears gently whisper down his pale cheeks. (...forgive me, Toto...maybe you were telling the truth...that you believe in this woman...but I can't let her destroy Schwartz...even if...we are only murderers...)  
  
"...they are all I have..."  
  
With the release of these words into the humid air, Nagi unwittingly sinks to the cold ground, on his knees with his face buried in his hands. So wrapped up in this paradox of painful emotions, he does not notice that Aiko has begun to stir.  
  
So many wounds and regrets linger in the young red-head's mind, but once again her large, violet eyes flutter open. She is much more alert this time due to the stinging pain in her thigh. Nonetheless, Aiko's attention is drawn away from her aching wound towards the unmistakable echo of soft cries, and she struggles to sit up in order to decipher who could possibly be making them.  
  
(Nagi...?) she realizes with hope, shaking her head to clear it of so many throbbing thoughts. (So, he has been left to guard me while the others face off against each other? What a young thing he is...just a boy...filled with so much grief and misguided purpose. But...perhaps...this is just the chance I need...)  
  
All pain and remaining fear wash away from Aiko as she begins to form a plan. Without a doubt, the battle raging outside can only have one outcome, leaving Aiko with only this one chance: Nagi.  
  
Struggling to sit up fully with as little pressure on her leg as possible, Aiko looks down at the boy on the floor, and smiles. "Tears can be very healthy, but only if you plan to do something about them." she states, causing Nagi to jerk his head up, revealing tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. "Do you? I certainly hope you do, because it would break Nanami's heart if you abandoned her now."  
  
"Toto...?" Nagi voices immediately, barely forming the word while wiping fiercely at his eyes.  
  
Aiko nods in understanding. "Hai. Your Toto. Horrible name, though." she laughs. "It means 'death'. What a contradicting title for such a lively, caring young woman. That is why I prefer Nanami - her real name. It refers to her beauty, not the unfortunate choices of her past. Hmm...beauty...much better for such an amazing girl, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
Still caught off guard, Nagi is not quite sure how to answer, nor whether or not he should answer at all. (What is she trying to do...?) he wonders skeptically, gradually rising from the ground and willing his tears to dry. (She...she must be trying to trick me somehow...)  
  
"I have been wanting to talk with you for a long time, Nagi." Aiko continues, bearing a heartfelt smile. "Nanami loves you so much, and I know you feel the same, but still you believe you need to follow the path Brad has layed out for you instead of following the one you yourself wish to lead."  
  
Nagi clenches his fists tightly at this, keeping his distance from the bed. "You're wrong!" he counters defensively. "I know what you are trying to do! You're trying to turn me against Crawford, against Schwartz, so you can...so you can destroy us!!"  
  
There is an embittered strength behind Nagi's accusations, but his voice falters, nonetheless, giving Aiko hope. "You don't really believe what you sre saying." she begins again, painfully swinging her legs over the edge of the bed - as if to stand - with obvious difficulty. "You feel an allegiance to Brad and the others, but your heart longs to be with Nanami. You want to believe her, don't you? You want to believe that I am her friend - your friend - because if I am telling you the truth, you have a way out. And *out* is exactly what you want."  
  
Though his fingers begin to relax, loosening from such fiercely tightened fists, Nagi is hesitant, imprinted beliefs straying his hopes away. "No...Toto...she said you admitted planning Schwartz's destruction. Crawford...he saw it, too. If you're...if you're a friend, then why would -"  
  
"You assume destruction means death!" Aiko cuts in, desperately wanting to rise from the bed, though her leg will not permit it. "When I say I will destroy Schwartz, that does not mean I plan to kill its members. Of course Brad would tell you otherwise. He tells you what you need to hear so you will continue to follow him. Do you think he would tell you I was coming to offer you a better life, even if that was the truth? Of course he wouldn't, because he knows you would jump at the chance." With pleading eyes, Aiko extends her right arm, reaching out to the young man so close to her - yet still so far away. "I *am* offering you the chance at a better life, Nagi. A life with Nanami. I will offer much the same to the others when given the chance, and if they accept, that *will* be the end of Schwartz, just as Brad foresaw . I do not know how easy or difficult this is all going to be, but I am not alone in fighting for this, and I know...I know without a doubt...you want to come with me."   
  
Ice blue eyes stare in wonder and fear at the outstretched hand beckoning him forward. There is a tiny, insistant voice in Nagi's head, a voice that has been with him for as long as he can remember, urging him to take that hand being offered him and to hang on for dear life. However, this voice is not alone. There is another, harsher by far, screaming for him to run back to the life of Hate he has lived for so long, calling him back to a path lying black and empty before him, with three familiar companions to push him onward from behind. It is a cold road. The loneliest road - despite those who travel it with him - leading only to the arrival of a very painful end.  
  
Who in their right mind would follow such a road - such a path in life - if someone offered them a chance at escaping through the trees?  
  
Nagi's eyes have stopped listening to his orders for them not to cry, and fresh tears find their way down his face. "I...I'm afraid..." he whispers, taking one cautious step forward.  
  
"I have yet to offer this to someone who wasn't." Aiko smiles warmly in reply, keeping her arm as steady as she can.   
  
"But if I go with you...the first thing Crawford will do is send the others after Toto. I know he will..."  
  
Aiko understands his dread, but smiles all the more broadly in reply, prepared for this fear well in advance. "Nanami is safe." she assures him. "The first day we met, I told her that if anything ever happened to me - or you - and she felt threatened, she could go to Fluesternd's headquarters where my friends would protect her."  
  
"Where is that...?"  
  
"Right across the street from Weiss', actually, and I am certain she had no trouble getting there."  
  
"And...you think she is already there...waiting for -" Nagi stops himself, thinking over his next words carefully before finishing them. "...for us?"  
  
By now, Nagi is only inches out of Aiko's reach, and as always, it is much more tempting to move forward than back.   
  
Every revolution has a beginning, and this might just be the beginning of a new one. Weiss agreeing to help Fluesternd was *not* the beginning. Those intriguing florists were destined to find their way out of the cycle of death, because they began their fight against black beasts with good hearts and good intentions - no matter how twisted it all became. That does not mean their journey is over - far from it - but they will most likely have an easier time at traveling it. Schwartz, on the extreme opposite end, might not even survive, despite the angels fighting for their resurrections.  
  
Aiko remains patient for Nagi to accept her waiting hand, replying to his struggled words with complete conviction. "Nanami is waiting for us this very moment, Nagi, and you do not have to feel any regret for leaving Schwartz behind in order to go to her. With your help, we can convince the others to come someday, too." She pauses, looking right into his damp, storm-cloud eyes. "We all get a little lost sometimes, but there is always a way home, and you are most welcome to join mine. Will you take me home...Nagi?"  
  
Somehow, the damp, dreary atmosphere of the cell-like room has faded away, and all that remains is the lasting thrill of hope.   
  
Small, trembling fingers reach up to grasp Aiko's hand, and as Nagi helps her to her feet, supporting her as best he can, he leaves the padded walls behind, along with every false comfort he has come to know. And do you know what else...?  
  
He doesn't look back.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"They won't be back."  
  
Schuldrich states this with amused certainty as he enters Schwartz' hideout through their hidden entrance in the basement, followed closely by his teammates.   
  
Dealing with Weiss had been as easy as luring out a pack of starving, stray cats. Fluesternd proved just as beatable, actually, and - as difficult as it may be to believe - the three oldest members of Schwartz are a little disappointed.  
  
"Their hearts weren't in it tonight." Farfarello mentions thoughtfully, retracting the blade on his more familiar weapon of choice.  
  
"Hn..." Brad agrees.  
  
Jade eyes survey his companions whimsically at their exchange. "It's almost as if they didn't *want* to kill us this time." Schu grins. "Too bad the little twerp had to miss out on all the fun. I bet he's -" Suddenly, he stops - in his steps and his sentence. A blank, disbelieving look has frozen his features.  
  
Brad and Farfarello pass him as they continue down the narrow hallway, but the dark-haired American turns back quizzically, noticing Schu's odd start. "What is it?" he demands, narrowing his bronzed gaze. "Reading minds again? Don't tell me Nagi fell asleep while we were gone, after I specifically told him to keep an eye on that girl?"  
  
Slowly, the astounded look on Schuldrich's face fades into a devilish smirk. "I wouldn't say that. But...I don't think you're gonna like this, Bradley."  
  
The almost taunting tone throughout the red-head's words causes Brad to glare dangerously in reply, but his back stiffens in expectation, nonetheless, unsure if he truly wants to find out what his friend is implying. This electric anxiety magnifies even more as an abrupt howl - like a strangled animal - erupts from further down the hall. Farfarello has disappeared into his room, the heavy metal door left open and unguarded.  
  
Without another thought, Brad rushes to the cell, coming to a halt just inside the doorframe. He quickly takes survey over the room, and discovers an unstable Farfarello hovering over his now empty bed, shaking severely as if from a penetrating cold.  
  
Aiko is gone. And Nagi with her.  
  
"Hehehe...bet ya didn't see this one coming, did you...Bradley?" Schuldrich purrs into Brad's ear from behind, placing his hands on the older man's shoulders as he peers around him into the room. "Looks like you should've listened to me after all. I knew the kid would ditch us eventually, if given proper incentive, anyway. Seems like our little kitten has even more influence on him than you do."  
  
Angrily, Brad pulls away, wrenching out of Schuldrich's hold. There is a slight whimper of indignation given at this action, but the sound is stubbornly ignored. Staring into the room fiercely for a moment, Brad attempts to keep himself under control - his calm and collected self - watching as Farfarello takes aggressions out in his own way.   
  
The albino raises his crescent-handled dagger above the bed, releasing its long blade, and slices brutally down to gash deeply into the mattress, causing stuffing to swirl up into the air like thick, angry snowflakes.  
  
There is method and purpose to the Irishman's action, but Brad is far too calculating to follow suit, despite how much he may want to. "Find them." he growls through clenched teeth, turning back to face the red-head behind him. "Now."  
  
  
*****A/N***** Oooo, Farfie evilness! If I am proud of anything, it is the charactarizations and relationships I have been able to present. I really think I've got these boys down. Please keep checking this story out, and please review, the next chapter is one of my faves! 


	9. 9

*****9*****  
  
  
Are you afraid of change?  
  
Most people are. The idea of altering one's beloved routine is unnerving to say the least. After all, we are creatures of habit, always striving for some sense of equilibrium. Change is frightening, I suppose, because its essence revolves around the unknown, and humans have instinctive fears concerning that which they do not understand.  
  
But, what do we actually understand in this life? We may say science has given us the power, the knowledge, to comprehend the basics of this earth, such as weather and life cycles. However, when we do not truly understand where all this life and atmosphere comes from, how can we possibly believe we understand it.   
  
Truth never comes easy.  
  
So, then what? We are supposed to live in a shell, safe from the horrors of change and new experiences all because we are doomed to never fully understand our own existence? Of course not. We are supposed to live, strive for answers, and accept change as it comes. Anything else would be foolish.  
  
Why, then, do so many human beings continue to fear change? Why? It is a waste of time. Of course, most of our daily routines have a habit of killing time. I suppose - as with most things - there isn't a concrete answer. Fear is apart of life. And, perhaps, in some cases, fear is an appropriate response to change. It all depends on what is changing.  
  
If your life was turned upside down, earning you powerful enemies who were once powerful friends, would this change frighten you? I certainly hope so.  
  
Especially, if there is something to be afraid of...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Darkness continues to blanket the sky, the city, and the very lives of the world tonight. The moon hides shamefully behind faithful clouds, with resentful stars refusing to shine. A smell of metallic rain overruns the senses as well, proving that it has not been a pleasant evening.  
  
It is beyond evening, to be precise, quite late into the night. Nevertheless, a group of exhausted warriors for the light are gathered in the living room of the apartment above "Kitten's Cafe." All are still garbed in assassin - no - suitable gear, as the members of Weiss and Fleusternd discuss their recent failure.  
  
"I can't believe this!" Youji exclaims, plopping himself down in an oversized armchair. "We didn't even phase them."  
  
Omi, who is sitting across the room at the end of a long, burgundy couch, clenches his fists in mirrored exasperation. "We outnumbered them by more than double and they still beat us. Have they really grown that much stronger?"  
  
"Hmph!" An unsurprisingly irate brunette grunts, slamming a fist back into the wall. "They aren't stronger. The only reason they beat us was because of the annoying little voice in the back of our heads telling us not to hurt them!"  
  
Nori - positioned barely a foot from Ken as he says this - glares back at him with disapproval, but says nothing.   
  
Hiromi, on the other hand, stands up from her perch on the arm of the couch, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. "I hope you're not trying to weasel the blame onto us, Siberian!" she warns. "You're the ones who agreed to help us. And if we have to go out of our way to save Aiko from those twisted psychos, you're going to have to realize killing them is out of the question. It would be a complete contradiction to what we're trying to do."  
  
"Which is what, exactly?" Youji demands, bordering on sarcasm. "To kindly ask Schwartz if they'll turn in their guns and knives and only use their powers for good? Sounds great in words, and I know we agreed to try and turn a new leaf here, but just how the hell are we supposed to do this!?"  
  
A heated silence whispers over the others - the rest of Weiss wondering much the same as Youji, while Fleusternd wonders how to answer him.  
  
Finally, Amaya, who is sitting rather close to Omi on the couch, stands and makes her way over to the tall blonde. "You don't have to be such a meanie about this! We're trying our hardest, you know? What more do you want?!"  
  
"You wanna know what I want?" comes Youji's dangerous reply. "How about for you to go -"  
  
"Balinese, that's enough."  
  
Silence again, as all eyes turn in surprise towards Ran, who has not spoken since they returned from Schwartz' hideout.   
  
With slow, deliberate steps, he makes his way to the center of the small room, turning out to everyone. "It is true it was difficult for us to fight tonight, but I am not willing to give up just because we're having trouble adjusting. Even if it is impossible to help Fleusternd reach their goal, isn't it worth it just to try? And maybe...maybe we'll gain back a little of what we gave up..."  
  
(He sounds like Aiko-chan...) Omi accounts respectfully. (I always hoped Weiss would end this way. Not by being punished ourselves the way the others believed, but through penitence...forgiveness...)  
  
"Even though we were unable to save Korat tonight, we owe her our trust." Ran continues boldly. "I know this feels like walking on uneven ground, unsure of our footing, of our purpose, of...whether or not we will be able to do this at all. But I...we...must do this." He pauses, almost in disbelief himself at the words he has spoken so passionately. Then, with the tiniest traces of his almost forgotten smile, he adds. "Besides, I really wish you would all just shut up and stop bickering. We owe alot to Fleusternd, and despite our failure, we wouldn't have even known where to find Schwartz' headquarters if it hadn't been for them."  
  
With that, Ran promptly returns to his spot near the landing, closing his eyes in fatigue as he slumps back against the wall.  
  
(Weiss is most definitely full of surprises tonight.) Nori thinks with a mental smile, though her pale features do not betray this outwardly. (Hopefully our forces will be more organized next time. We have to form a stable plan that will unsure Aiko's recovery. I suppose I should - )  
  
Knock. Knock. Knock.  
  
Everyone freezes, looking awkwardly at one another as the pounding on the back entrance filters up the stairs, demanding attention. No one is quite sure how to react to this unexpected intrusion.  
  
"Just ignore it." Hiromi suggests warily, eyeing the staircase leading down to the back door. "Probably just a nosy neighbor, or something."  
  
"This late...?" comes a cautious inquiry from Nori, while her silver eyes flick suspiciously to the stairs as well.  
  
Always one to leap before he looks, Ken pushes himself from the wall, walking swiftly to the landing. "I'll answer it. You guys just start cooking up ways to get Korat back." he states coolly, pausing at the top of the stairs to flex his claws. "It's not as if I'm unarmed, ne?"   
  
The others watch with wavering anticipation as Ken disappears down the stairs, and a lingering quiet filters over the room once again as they are left with his simple suggestion pinned in their hearts.  
  
(Cook up ways to get Korat back, he says.) Youji mumbles, digging himself more comfortably into the cushion of his chair. (Seven of us were just made fools of by three members of Schwartz. Seven against three!! God, this is impossible!)  
  
"Ke...I mean...Siberian is right." a soft, feminine voice speaks hesitantly into the stillness. Amaya has spoken, sitting on the couch next to Omi once again, and wringing her hands absently in her lap. "We have to keep thinking. There must be something we can do. Maybe...maybe we could -"  
  
"Ahhhhhh!"  
  
Freeze. Again - so often this seems to happen - Weiss and Fleusternd are thrown into panicked silence, snapping their attention to the stairway. Ken's voice has just rang out in frightening alarm with a resonance that bounces off the walls.  
  
"Siberian..." Nori whispers, barely audible as her face pales, just as the others are paling and stiffening in alert around her.  
  
Being just beside the landing, Ran cautiously peers down the steps, concern and uncertainty forcing the corners of his mouth into a tight frown. "Ken!" he calls urgently. "Ken!!"  
  
"I...I'm okay...I think..." replies Ken's breathless voice, as if he is recovering from some horrible nightmare. "You're never gonna believe who's at the door."  
  
Quizzically, Ran looks back over the others in the living room, receiving expressions from all of them that mirror his own: deep confusion. Who could it be? Who could possibly cause such shock in the young brunette who has answered the door? Well, they are about to find out, for more than one pair of feet begins to echo up the staircase, proving that Ken is not returning to them alone.  
  
Anxious faces wait expectantly as the footsteps grow louder, and as Ken finally comes into view, everyone gasps.  
  
"Aiko!" Hiromi exclaims in an exuberant combination of joy and disbelief.  
  
Held securely in Ken's arms - like some morbid picture of a husband carrying his new wife over the threshold - is an obviously weak and injured Rosuto Aiko, looking as if she couldn't possibly have made it home on her own.  
  
"Kombanwa, minna. Sorry I'm so late." the red-head beams, smiling in spite of her unmistakable pain.  
  
Everyone stares on in mute shock as Ken makes his way across the room, gently lying Aiko on the couch after Amaya and Omi instantaneously move out of the way. They all immediately begin to close in around her then, bubbling with questions, though none are sure how to begin.  
  
At long last, Nori bends low beside the couch, grasping Aiko's hand firmly in her own. "You're hurt. How...how did you escape from them in this condition?"  
  
"Not on her own, if that's what you're thinking." Ken answers in Aiko's place, crossing his arms as if he knows some incredible secret. "I still can't believe it."  
  
Omi casts him a sideways glance, crinkling his nose in curiousity. "What do you mean...?"  
  
All eyes slowly begin to return their attention to the landing. Barely visible above it they can make out the top of a brown-haired head peaking up the stairs, with scared, blue-grey eyes blinking at them fearfully.  
  
"Dare...?" Omi breathes, but is prevented from finishing his question.   
  
"Don't be afraid." Aiko's low-toned and voice calls to this hidden figure. "They are not your enemy if you are not theirs."  
  
Though still tentative, this appears to be enough to give the stranger incentive to move. Carefully, a young boy makes his way up the stairs and into the living room, revealing to everyone who he truly is.  
  
(Schwartz...) Ran labels instinctively, and his hand twitches involuntarily for his katana.  
  
Naoe Nagi has just entered enemy territory.  
  
"You did it...?" Nori asks in amazement, looking down into Aiko's dimmed, violet eyes. "As their prisoner you were still able to convince one of them to join us, even with no one to help you?"  
  
Aiko can only smile. "I had all the help I needed." she answers, and then suddenly remembers a helper she had almost forgotten. "Oh, yes. Did Nanami make it here alright?"  
  
Nagi's eyes instantly brighten, though he remains quite a distance from the others.  
  
"Nanami?" Ran asks with deep suspicion. "Who is Nanami?"  
  
Dramatic Pause.  
  
"Nagi-kun!!"  
  
The question concerning Nanami's identity is short-lived, because the dear girl, with her turquoise hair a tousled mess as if she has just gotten out of bed, is bounding out of the hallway leading from the bedrooms. As she flies into the room, the lively girl glomps onto Nagi with such force, he is practically knocked to the floor.  
  
(Impossible...) Youji thinks with wide, disbelieving eyes, watching closely as the young couple embraces. (She's...the little one from Schreient, but...how...?)  
  
"Nagi-kun!" Toto cries again, hugging him vigorously. "I'm so happy you came. I knew you would. I knew you'd listen to Aiko-chan."  
  
"Hai, Toto..." he breathes in reply, forgetting that anyone else even exists as he holds her close. "I am so sorry...so sorry I didn't listen to you before..."  
  
Time hangs suspended - awkward - yet lovely in a moment of simple, innocent emotion. Truly, Weiss does not know what to make of this unexpected surprise. Sure, they knew what they were getting themselves into right from the start. Didn't they? But, witnessing a dream unfold is far different from merely imagining its fulfillment.  
  
"I would like to be happy for you, Korat, happy for what you seem to have accomplished." Ran begins slowly, turning his back on the blissful chibis, and bending over Aiko with hushed words. "But...can we trust them?"  
  
"This journey begins and ends with ideals such as that. With faith, hope, love...*and* trust, Abyssinian." she answers confidently, not bothering to lower her voice as he has. "I trust Nagi and Nanami equally as much as I trust you."   
  
This answer is somewhat unsettling to the frigid red-head, but his gradually melting heart is beckoning for him to take a chance and believe in new beginnings - for everyone.  
  
"Can someone please explain this to me?" Youji's frustrated voice rings out over the others, while he gingerly leans against an arm of the couch. "How exactly...I mean...when...where did she come from?"   
  
With a glorious and slightly egocentric smirk, Amaya tosses back her raven hair, causing her curious lock of silver to stand out even more. "Duh, she's been here practically all day. How do you think we knew Aiko was taken?"  
  
"You mean, this...girl...was there when Schwartz took Korat? And, she has been *here* ever since?" Omi prompts incredulouly. "Ken-kun was here most of the day, too, ne? So...you knew about this?" the young blonde demands, turning abruptly to his friend.  
  
Ken looks back with a rather adorable "I-got-my-hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar" expression, staring at each of his teammates apologetically. "Well...kinda. It just didn't seem very important at the time, so I didn't say anything. I mean, she's not a threat anymore; didn't attack me or anything when she came bursting through the door earlier. In fact...she almost seemed happy to see me."  
  
"Of course I was!" chimes in Toto brightly, breaking into the conversation, though her arms are still firmly attached to Nagi. "Aiko-chan told me all about her plan to get you guys together, and stop you from hurting people anymore. Both Schwartz *and* Weiss. I want Aiko-chan's dream to come true, because then Nagi-kun and I can be together. That's why I was happy to see you, oniisan, because I knew Aiko-chan's plan was working."  
  
(Oniisan...?) Ken blinks, blushing slightly. His soccer kids call him by that title all the time, of course, but hearing it come out of Toto's pouty, little lips is quite a bit different.  
  
Nori and Hiromi hang back on the sidelines, taking in the exchange of explanations with growing aggravation, both being much more concerned with the state of their injured leader.   
  
At last, reaching patient's end, Nori stands briskly from kneeling beside the couch, hands on her hips as she interrupts the conversation with devastating finality. "Can't you stop chit-chatting for two seconds to process what is *really* important right now?!"  
  
"No kidding!" Hiromi obediently pipes in. "You're all blabbing away while Aiko's lying here bleeding to death on the sofa!"  
  
The friendly atmosphere in the room is mercilessly crushed. Everyone's eyes turn fearfully to Aiko in realization, noticing the beads of sweat on her forehead, the labor of her breathing, and the drooping of her eyelids as they struggle to remain open. No one had noticed just how much blood she was loosing - not to mention how much she must have lost on the way home.  
  
"Aiko-chan, what did they do to you?!" Toto cries, at last releasing Nagi as she dives for the couch, dropping down beside it.   
  
"It...it's nothing...just a scratch..." the red-head lies, speaking with obvious strain, and looking paler by the moment.  
  
Ran is standing at the end of the couch - by the arm Aiko's head is resting against - and as he looks down at the gash in her leg, his violet eyes flash with obvious concern. "We have to treat that wound." he declares. "It looks terrible, far too deep to leave alone. Why didn't you say anything?"  
  
Though the question is clearly addressed to Aiko, she only smiles weakly in response, flinching from a pinch of pain shooting up her leg.  
  
"We can't take her to the hospital." Amaya puts in fretfully.  
  
"Too many questions." Hiromi agrees.  
  
For a moment, everyone looks to everyone else, each hoping someone, somehow, will come up with a solution.   
  
Then, unexpectedly, Toto jumps up from her new-found spot on the floor, waving her hand about in the air as if awaiting a teacher to call on her. "I know! I know!" she cries. "Nagi can heal her!"  
  
No one says a word, but all inadvertently glance over at the frail-looking, young boy still lingering quite a distance from the rest of the group.  
  
"Me...?" his haunting, melancholy voice inquires, adorably timid and soft-spoken. "What can I do, Toto?"  
  
"You can heal Aiko-chan like you healed me, Baka!"  
  
(What...!?) Youji thinks wildly, his emerald eyes popping open in surprise, much like everyone else's. (She...she's still alive because of him...? How?)  
  
"But...I don't know how I did that, Toto." Nagi disputes, looking pained - trapped. "It just...happened. I wouldn't know where to begin."  
  
"But you do..." a breathless, low-toned voice breaks in above the rest. Aiko is attempting to sit up, beseeching Nagi with brilliantly smiling eyes, despite the effort needed to bring that smile to her lips. "You...have so much...power...inside of you...and you have seen for yourself.....what great things...you can do...if you use that power...for the sake of love...rather than hate..."  
  
"But I -"  
  
"Do not doubt yourself." she cuts in with surprising conviction. "Your love for Nanami is unequaled...and I know...it is impossible...to recreate what you felt...in that moment when you saved her...but if we work together...our combined powers might just be enough..."  
  
This final statement baffles Nagi completely, and he stares back at her in overwhelmed surprise. "Combined powers? Then you...! That's why Crawford wants you! You are gifted like us!"  
  
Aiko wills her mouth to form that difficult smile, nodding in confirmation. "Yes..." she replies gently. "I can...manipulate fire...a pyrokinetic...if you know the word...and...what better medium for healing is there...than that of the healing flame...?"  
  
(That's right. I had almost forgotten.) Ran ponders, hovering above his red-haired twin from his spot at the end of the couch. (It seems so long ago when she told us about their powers. And though it has only been a day...less than a day...we haven't even seen a whisper of what they can do, other than that annoying sound trick. Strange...)  
  
"To...together..." Nagi breathes, stepping closer to the couch with cautious footing, and kneeling down with his eyes focused nervously on Aiko's wound. "I...I think I can...if we do it together."  
  
Gently, he takes hold of Aiko's hands, looking over into her paled face for a signal to begin. She nods, closing her eyes, and he does the same, both concentrating fiercely on the task at hand.  
  
Their palms form against one another's, with delicate fingers lacing tightly together. Static almost instantly begins to build around them, as if a current is pulsing through their veins, connecting them to the core.  
  
Watching anxiously, in varied degrees of uneasiness and awe, the others notice that Aiko's wound slowly begins to glow. Pulsing shades of color, like the flames from a burning candle, spark and grow brighter around it. Soon, the brilliance of the light emitted is so blinding, they are forced to turn away.  
  
How simplex, the whole ordeal. A mere touching of hands and faith in soul and spirit, and poof - even crude mortals can be capable of anything.   
  
Extraordinary.  
  
As the light dims, everyone gradually turns their heads back to the couch, staring down in anticipation at the still, quiet figures still concentrating with such determination. Now, however, their work is complete, and Aiko and Nagi open their eyes, blinking exhaustedly, before joining the others in focusing their attention on the gash in Aiko's leg.  
  
Gash? Wound? What wound...?  
  
"It...it worked..." Nagi whispers in joyous disbelief. "We did it!"  
  
Truly, all that remains as remnants from Aiko's unfortunate encounter with a certain Irish psychopath, are a few stains of deep crimson on her dress.  
  
"I knew you could do it, Nagi-kun!" Toto shouts happily, hugging him from behind.  
  
"As did I." adds Aiko confidently, with a voice much stronger than it had been only a few minutes before. "This night has turned out better than I could have dreamed. Though a little shaken, everyone has survived the day unharmed, and we have two new faces to brighten our tomorrow."  
  
Sitting up and swinging her legs from the cushions, Aiko sits comfortably on the edge of the couch, looking over everyone while they continue staring back at her with a wide diversity of emotions.  
  
Shock. Confusion. Joy. After all, everyday should be filled with equal amounts of each.  
  
"I am sure we are all bursting with questions." Nori begins suddenly, before anyone else can say a word. "However, it is rather late, and we have been through quite enough for one night. I believe it is time you boys headed home, so we can all get some much needed rest."  
  
The still dumb-struck members of Weiss are at first taken aback by this unexpected dismissal, but faces of indignation quickly fade into faces of relief and gratitude. Sleep sounds far too appealing.  
  
"Well said, Somali." Aiko smiles, standing from the couch on very steady and healthy legs. "Nanami, I assume you have settled into the extra room at the end of the hall, ne? Why don't you and Nagi take this opportunity to talk, before it gets any later? When you are ready for bed, there is an extra mattress and a number of blankets in the hall closet. That is...*if* you need them."  
  
These last words are spoken with a hint of playful humor, causing Nagi to blush deeply and sending Toto into a fit of melodic giggles.  
  
"As for the rest of us, we should retire as well." the red-head continues, turning swiftly to Ran and the other members of Weiss - who have already begun moving towards the stairs. "We will call on you in the morning to work out our plan of...'attack'...and I suppose all of us will have to keep a watchful eye open for any retaliation from Schwartz, at least until we are ready to face them again."  
  
This having been said, Toto is already dragging Nagi back to her room, allowing him only enough time to mumble out a stream of gratitude and praise as they disappear down the hall. Stifling their laughter, Nori, Hiromi, and Amaya all offer their own goodnights, slipping out of the room as well, and leaving the remaining ex-assassins to also take their leave as they file down the stairs to the back door.  
  
Aiko stands alone in the living room, smiling with satisfaction as the boys make their way downstairs, but Ran - being the last to leave - pauses at the top of the landing, throwing his intriguing twin an eerily odd glance. His face holds no true expression, but his eyes clearly give away feelings of suspicion. He has not been able to shake those gnawing thoughts concerning Fleusternd's mysterious and mostly unseen powers, and he believes as he looks at Aiko now, that he knows why hers have remained hidden.  
  
"Korat..." Ran begins, narrowing his gaze. "...it is rather curious that Schwartz was able to capture you so easily today. Tell me...why didn't you use your power on them?"  
  
This question takes Aiko by dangerous surprise, and as she walks over to Ran beside the staircase - as if wanting to keep their conversation confined - she looks extremely disturbed by his sudden inquiry. "How...how did you know...?" she replies at first, very unsteady and unlike herself. Then, more composed. "I mean to say...it is true that I didn't use it, but...why do you ask?"   
  
"I only...wondered...that's all." he answers with calm mystery, easily seeing through her.  
  
Aiko nervously runs a hand through her tangled mess of blood-red hair, her words flowing out in unmistakable reluctance. "Well, the truth is...I didn't want to take the chance of hurting one of them. Yes...I couldn't allow myself to do anything like that."  
  
"I see..." Ran speaks softly, leaning forward to bore his fierce eyes directly into Aiko's, not to frighten or intimidate, but to let her know that he knows something she is unwilling to reveal. "I thought perhaps...just maybe...you were afraid."  
  
Pause. Even their breathing seems to stop a moment as they stare each other down so stubbornly, and Ran knows he has hit the nail on the head by the way Aiko's eyes widen at his words.  
  
With a small, gentle, and understanding smile, he suddenly bows his head in a gesture of farewell. "Oyasuminasai, Korat. Until tomorrow." And with that, he slips down the stairs without another word, nor a single look back.  
  
(Hmmm...I was wrong about him.) Aiko ponders with a sad, contented expression. (How marvelous.)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
(How...unbearable...I can't...take this...endless waiting...endless disappointment...)  
  
Whistling maniacally, the wind whips past the branches of a tall tree outside "Kitten's Cafe." How cold the Spring night, how harsh and unforgiving, while the moon winks defiantly down upon the earth despite desperate clouds struggling to conceal it.  
  
Farfarello has disobeyed orders again, as he sits ungracefully in those swaying branches high above the ground. Brad strictly explained that Schuldrich was to find out Nagi and Aiko's whereabouts, and that he alone would bring them back if they had not yet reached the others. Naturally, Farfie couldn't possibly accept such an invasion when it is *his* prey that has escaped. No. It has been far too long since his desires were fulfilled, and he is far beyond giving up such satisfaction - despite any consequences. After all, how often does an insane mind think things through logically?  
  
(It's too late now...Schuldrich won't be able to bring them back...) the albino's frantic thoughts continue in troubled anxiety. (She is so close...just within my reach...hehe...I hope she is enjoying the token I left her...my promise...my mark claiming her as mine...)  
  
While digging his nails along the tree bark, Farfarello's golden eye glows with an eerie light, and he would appear like an apparition to anyone who might look up, seeing him for the malicious bird that he is.  
  
With that unforgettable eye trained on Aiko's bedroom window, he watches - waiting - and at last sees her figure emerge from the hallway, following her movements as she closes the door behind her. However, the sight of this unique, young woman deflates his hopes rather than encourages them, for she does not seem to be in any pain at all. Indeed, the beaming red-head is moving about the room in full strength, and in a sudden wave of fury, Farfarello realizes the wound he left so lovingly is no longer there.  
  
(...no...) his mind whispers dangerously. (She dares defy me...dares radiate such light and warmth...healed as if I never touched her! I'll split her open from end to - )   
  
Horror.   
  
While his tawny eye grows wider in enraged terror, Farfarello goes rigid, noticing that Aiko is holding something in her hand that she could not possibly have possession of.   
  
He had watched as she paced about the room, until at last sitting sluggishly at her desk. There is a picture placed just below the table lamp, but it is not *that* item which has caught his attention. Aiko has taken out another picture from the bottom drawer, and is now holding it up sorrowfully to the light, caressing her fingers over the smiling images.  
  
It is a picture of a young nun surrounded by happy children, including a particular child with white hair, and the brightest smile of them all.  
  
(How...that time when...I...it's impossible!!)  
  
(Not quite.) A nasal, impatient voice intrudes upon Farfarello's thoughts. (What's impossible, is *you*. Brad will be scaling the walls when he finds out you snuck away again.)  
The Irishman stiffens, tearing his gaze away from Aiko's window to search the ground frantically for signs of this bothersome individual who has invaded his mind. And then he spots him - Schuldrich - leaning against the trunk of the tree with a cigarette dangling lazily from his mouth as it glows brightly within the shadows. Unfortunately, nearly always being the one to follow orders, the sultry German will not be taking any playmates home tonight now that their troublesome treasure and unfortunate traitor have found sanctuary - at least as much sanctuary as they are going to get.  
  
(We're going home, Farf.) Schu explains, almost with a bitter despondency in his mind's voice. (You better hope Bradley isn't in one of his moods tonight.)  
  
  
*****   
  
  
Oh dear, is Brad Crawford in one hell of a mood tonight!  
  
"You let them get away!?!"  
  
"Hey, it's not my fault they had a head start."  
  
Within the walls of Schwartz' hideout, the atmosphere is thick with tension like a balloon blown taut enough to burst at the tiniest touch. Though Farfarello escaped into his room the moment the duo returned, Schuldrich has the unfortunate luck of having to report to Brad, and - obviously - the irate American isn't taking the news of failure very well.  
  
"We had her in our clutches, the final key we had been waiting for, and not only does she elude us, but the accursed woman brainwashes Nagi into going with her!!"  
  
Brad paces madly about the living room while he rants - a rather small space, homey in appearance, which is a great contrast to the surreal presence of their main room in between dimensions, with its constellations covering the would-be walls.  
  
Adoring the sight of Brad's red-faced frustration, Schu can't help grinning at this lack of control coming from someone usually so put together. "Brainwashed isn't quite accurate, Bradley." he interrupts. "From my point of view, the kid looked mighty comfy where he was. Maybe you didn't have as much sway over him as you thought."  
  
Wrong thing to say.  
  
"Quiet!!" Brad shouts, snarling as if to show the venom on his teeth, and coming to a dead stop in his pacing. "We are not to talk of *him* again. He made his choice. Naoe Nagi is now just as expendable as the rest of the human race. Understood?"  
  
Schuldrich looks at Brad from beneath playfully drooping eyelids, showing a devastating half-smile. "Your wish is my command, oh fearless leader." he replies, dripping with sarcasm, and taking a mocking bow. "Anything else before I'm *allowed* to go to bed?"  
  
"Yes." answers Brad's stern voice, eyeing Schuldrich darkly, though attempting to keep himself from being affected by this show of disrespect. "Farfarello needs to be punished for disobeying my orders. Take care of it."  
  
On this final bidding, the dark-haired American turns away, headed to his own bedroom for a night of much desired rest. Schuldrich, on the other hand, has quickly lost his smirk, left standing frozen in the middle of the living room.   
  
There is nothing he hates more than the task he has once again been handed.  
  
(Punishment...) he thinks bitterly, flicking a stray strand of orange hair away from his face. (Damn you, Brad. Are you so high and mighty you can't even do the dirty work yourself, or is this just my reward for loosing the little brat? Heh. I guess us sinners can't ever catch a break...)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Sinners *won't* ever catch break. Not until they repent for those nasty little sins of theirs, anyway. Which is exactly how it should be. It isn't always, of course, but it is when it needs to be.  
  
Farfarello is sitting alone on his desecrated bed, amongst the torn pieces of stuffing and shreds of fabric. No one had bothered to worry about the destroyed piece of furniture, considering its possessor could care less if he had a cushy place to sleep. At the moment, being curled up on the last spot his victim had been before slipping through his fingers is the only place this disturbed, young man wishes to be.  
  
There is a creek that sounds from behind suddenly, signaling that someone has entered his prison. However, he doesn't look up, nor move in the slightest, because he knows all too well who it is and what they have in mind.  
  
"Gott hat verlassenen mich." Farfarello states dead-toned in German, staring blindly forward as he pulls his knees closer into his body.  
  
Now standing just inside the room, Schuldrich starts, his jade eyes looking disturbed by this unexpected declaration, and it takes him a little longer than usual to decide how he should respond. After all, he has come on an unseemly errand, and one must keep a sense of humor about such things, ne?  
  
"I thought it was the other way around." Schuldrich replies at last, forcing his usual smirk to play across his devilish face.  
  
Farfarello gives no answer, remaining stone-still on the slashed mattress. In the space of an instant, Schuldrich's smile flickers, and his disgust for what he must do is clearly apparent. Nevertheless, he is no fool. He knows how dangerous it would be to disobey his darling Bradley, and Schuldrich has always lived for Schuldrich. No one else.  
  
Why change now?  
  
Slowly, the German makes his way closer to the bed, and the jingling of buckles from the straitjacket behind his back is easy to make out in the silence of such an enclosed room.  
  
His ears perked by this, Farfarello's head tilts up, though he keeps his back to the unwelcome intruder. "He's sent you to punish me, hasn't he?" the albino speaks plainly, without emotion, already knowing the answer to his question.  
  
"Sorry, Farf. You know the rules." answers Schuldrich's nasal voice, with as much levity as he can muster. "Brad is - and always will be - judge, jury, and -"  
  
"*You* are executioner." Farfarello finishes.  
  
Unsettled by that truth, the uncomfortable red-head clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, well...what can I say? Let's just do each other a favor here and get this over with. It'll be a hell of a lot easier if you cooperate this time."  
  
Upon hearing these words, Farfarello turns at an agonizingly slow pace to face the man behind him, showing absolutely no expression - which is always more unsettling than his deranged glares.  
  
The two hold suspended out of time as they watch each other, seeming to wait for the other to make the first move. Already deeply uneased about the whole situation, Schuldrich attempts to break this horrible pressure by throwing his companion an almost believable smile as he walks up to the bed.  
  
"Come on, Farfie. This should be no sweat for you, right?" he begins, bringing the straitjacket out from behind his back, since his intentions are already clear. "It's not like you've never been through this before. Besides, the whole thing will be over before you know it. By morning, Brad won't even remember why he wanted to punish you in the first place. So...why don't you just let me put this thing on you? Deal with the whole institutionalized gig for tonight, and then everyone will be happy. Okay?"  
  
Instantly, Farfarello's golden eye sparks with a terrifying light, and he jerks away from Schuldrich, clinging to the corner of the bed. "...happy...?" he whispers. "You actually...believe...we can know happiness...anymore...hehehe...the only happiness I feel...is in revenge against those who speak their vile lies and promises...as *He* lies and promises..."  
  
"Stop it." Schuldrich cuts in, his smile completely lost, and the difficulty of his duty clearly weighing him down. "Hold yourself together for me, alright? Just let me -"  
  
"NO!" the frantic Irishman explodes, after Schu had taken only the smallest step closer. "I will not be locked away again...not with so much time lost. And she was so close, I...I can't lose her...I can't...I won't let you keep me from her...you...you...STAY AWAY FROM ME!!"  
  
With an inhuman leap, Farfarello flies off the bed just as Schuldrich lunges forward to grab him, causing the red-head to hit the torn mattress hard. Recovering himself quickly, however, Schu springs back up, amazed that anyone could escape *his* speed, but realizing just how handy psychotic adrenaline can be.  
  
Farfarello is darting about the room haphazardly in attempts to keep out of his teammate's reach, inching closer and closer to the open door. Unfortunately for the rampaging albino, Schuldrich is blocking the entrance and advancing on him far too swiftly.  
  
Eyeing each other in utter distrust, they face off, Schuldrich holding the straitjacket open in front of him to conceal Farfarello upon capture, and Farfie in an alert position, desperate for a way to avoid such an outcome.  
  
At wits end, Schuldrich finally surges forward, too fast for Farfarello to counter, and unbelievably forces his momentary adversary's arms into the jacket, fastening it so clumsily he has to wrap his arms tightly around Farfarello to keep him from struggling free.   
  
By the end of their entanglement, both men are collapsed on the floor and out of breath, with Schuldrich holding Farfarello from behind, firmly and close - as if afraid to let him go.  
  
Breathing heavily, Schuldrich starts to speak, his mouth painfully close to Farfarello's ear. "...you always...have to be such a pain...don't you...?" he whispers, with no humor in his words at all. "...this didn't have to be so hard...if you had just given in...I mean...you know this is nothing compared to what you'd be put through...if you were still in that asylum we found you in..."  
  
"It doesn't matter..." replies Farfarello's low, noxious voice. "...there is this hunger in me...you understand...you feel it, too...the need to destroy others...to make them feel our pain...and...I had the way to relieve this gnawing ache inside my chest...pounding in my head...only to have it ripped away..."  
  
(God...are we really these sad, helpless creatures...?) Schu wonders bitterly, pulling Farfarello closer against him. (Is this all we are...?)  
  
"You're right, Farf...I do understand..." he breathes, hating the unfamiliar - yet so familiar - lurching in the pit of his stomach. "...I know what you're feeling...but it's ok...you'll get your chance again...I promise...and you know you can trust me...after all...we're friends, right?"  
  
Deadly, unearthly pause.  
  
"...friends?" Farfarello whispers back, beginning to shake uncontrollably like a pot ready to boil over the top. "...wh...why...would I want you...as a friend!?"  
  
At this timely outburst, Schuldrich finally realizes just how dangerous his position truly is. Farfarello's maddened thoughts surge through him like burning ice, clouding his vision in their ferocity, and he is unexpectedly flung back. Sliding across the cold, metal floor, he sits stunned long enough to see Farfarello bursts up onto his feet, thrashing around the room while still in the confinement of his straitjacket. Thrown off guard, the panicked red-head makes a dash for the door, somehow reaching it unscathed, and after diving through it, he forces the heavy contraption shut behind him.  
  
Out of breath once more, Schuldrich topples against the wall, slidding to the floor, and slowly brings a trembling hand up to his face to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The echos of pounds and crashes as Farfarello throws himself against the sides of his room do little to reassure him.  
  
(Shit...that was too close...) the red-head curses, forcing himself to his feet. Then, out of habit and responsibility, he securely locks the cell with those unsteady hands, and gradually makes his way down the hallway to his own room, in order to free himself from the anxiety of tonight's madness - at least in some form. (Too many thoughts I shouldn't have...thoughts Farfie shouldn't have...just like Nagi started to have before -)  
  
Abruptly, Schuldrich stops in his tracks, stunned at his own realization. And then, mischievously, a wide grin begins to spread across his face, and the German continues to move down the hall as if he hadn't lost a step.   
  
With a mad glint in his jade eyes, he lets out a haunting laugh while walking onward - a loud, deceptive laugh, full of false promises of a tomorrow that may never come.  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
First of all, the little German phrase Farfie uses when Schu walks in means: "God has forsaken me." At least, as close as I can translate. Otherwise, I just love 'punishment'. The relationship between Farf and Schu has always meant something special to me, and I want people to see it. Please keep R&Ring, because I am really proud of this. Love ya! 


	10. 10

*****10*****  
  
  
Where does sin begin?  
  
Some people believe a sin is born through action alone. Murder. Theft. Adultery. All only become sins when they are acted out. Not everyone believes this, though. There are a number of human beings wise enough to realize that sin begins before the action is even carried out - in the mind.  
  
If you wish someone dead, aren't those thoughts just as horrible as fulfilling the desire? You may say no. You may be one of those people who believe we can think whatever we want as long as we hold our destructive, evil tendencies at bay.  
  
And you would be wrong.  
  
Sin begins in the mind. If you believe deep down, in the most sacred depths of your being, that you want to sleep with your neighbors wife, even if you don't do it, you have already sinned. Because what are we without that private, intimate, important sense of self within ourselves?  
  
Nothing.  
  
Sin begins the moment we think it. Which explains even more than before why every human being is naturally a sinner. Being a sinner does not damn us for all eternity, however. Oh no. Through our fight to beat those natural urges, those human instincts, we realize we are going to make mistakes, but despite that, we can rise from the ashes of the burning passions tearing us down, leaving only one question unanswered.  
  
Sin: When you gonna learn?  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Breath. Life. Scents of flowers and birds blossoming after months of slumber. The entire aura of Spring shimmers in every particle of air this brisk, bright morning, as the dawning of something new begins in the light and warmth of the sun.  
  
The air never felt fresher and more miraculous, especially to Kudo Youji while puffing grandly on his first cigarette of the day.  
  
He leans carelessly against a crate in the back alley of "Kitty in the House," a bit sensitive to the cool morning breeze, but willing to bear it in order to satisfy his addiction.   
  
It's funny, isn't it, how the human race strives so hard to gain control, and yet we almost always end up being controlled ourselves by the very desires we crave.  
  
(How did I end up here...?) the tall blonde wonders whimsically, taking a long, cleansing drag on his cigarette. (A nothing kid from a nothing family; a one-in-a-million chance as a detective...with Asuka; and then BAM!, somewhere along the line I landed here. An assassin in Kritiker's hands...and now they don't even exist anymore.)  
  
Puff. Puff.  
  
(I wonder if it's true what they say? Does everything really happen for a reason...?)  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Youji suddenly catches sight of someone coming down the alley towards him. Automatically, he straightens his posture, noticing this newcomer is a woman, but his animalistic instincts are swiftly held at bay once he realizes which woman it is.  
  
(...her.)  
  
"Ohaiyo, Balinese-san!" Toto greets in a far too chipper voice. The aqua-haired girl is lighter on her feet than should be humanly possible, as if all the world is her playground and nothing could ever cause her harm. "Do you like my dress? It's Amaya-chan's." she continues happily, hopping up onto a crate next to Youji, and apparently unaware of his completely stunned reaction to her presence.   
  
The dress is rather lovely on her; bright yellow with frills, like some over-sized doll clothes. Perfect for Toto's personality, and more than flattering for her extraordinary figure.  
  
"Errm...sure." replies Youji's faltering voice, while shaking his head to relieve himself from the shock. "You look very nice...Nanami. That's what Korat said your real name was, ne?"   
  
"Hai!" she answers instantly, beaming from ear to ear. Then, with a curious tilt of her head, she asks, "Why do you look so serious today, Oniisan?"  
  
The bewilderment in this added oddity causes Youji to drop his ever-loved cigarette. (Oniisan again...? What does she think we are? Some big, happy family?)   
  
"I...well...I just have a lot on my mind, I guess." he answers hesitantly, grinding the lost cancer stick into the ground, and purposely avoiding the young woman's gaze.   
  
Something about being around Toto unnerves him.  
  
"I have a lot on my mind, too! That's why I came to see you." she comments happily. "Ever since Aiko-chan and I first met, I've wanted to talk to you."  
  
As if Youji's life isn't filled with enough surprises. "Me?" he inquires, stunned, slowly turning his head to face this incomparable girl. "You came over this early to see *me*? Why?"  
  
For the first time this bright, chilly morning, Toto's flawless smile wavers, and she lowers her eyes, staring intently at her feet. "Because...of Noi." she replies, in an unbelievably small voice. "You...you killed her, ne?"  
  
Freeze. Everything freezes, grimly becoming a bitter cold, harsh and biting at the skin. Youji has lost the ability to move, and although Toto is looking away from him, he cannot bear to face her after hearing such a blunt statement. Of course, he knew it had to come up eventually. Toto had lived, loved, and killed in the company of his cherished Asuka for years. The pain he feels in having lost her must be nearly as agonizing - if not more - for this lone friend left behind.  
  
Mirroring the young woman, Youji averts his eyes, as if finding something truly miraculous to look at on the ground. "...I did." he whispers, bold despite his bitter memories. "Have you come to repay the favor?"  
  
This simply spoken question, holding so much meaning, causes Toto to jump in her seat, jerking her lovely head in horror towards the blonde-haired man beside her. "No! I'd never want that!" she screams, clenching her fists in anger. "I'm not as stupid as people think! I know...I know you had no choice, Oniisan. You had no choice...because...you wouldn't have killed her unless...there was no other way."  
  
With wide, disbelieving eyes, Youji lifts his head, though he is still unable to look Toto in the face. (...is she saying she forgives me...? But...why...)  
  
"Why do you say that?" he begins in an almost demanding tone. "How...how do you know I wouldn't -"  
  
"You loved her. People don't kill the ones they love. Not unless they have to." her potent voice interrupts. "You see, I know all about you and Noi. I always knew she had someone special out there somewhere, and Aiko-chan filled in the pieces for me."  
  
(Korat?) Youji wonders accusingly. (But that still doesn't explain...)  
  
"What do you mean you *knew* Asuka had someone?" he prompts, flicking his eyes up into Toto's ocean depths.   
  
With her smile back in full force, the turquoise-haired girl giggles brightly. "Easy! When Noi first came to live with us, she didn't remember who she was or anything. Pel and Chen...and even Papa Masafumi...didn't care about helping her remember, either. They always tried to make her forget about her past. But I never did. Sometimes, when everyone else was asleep, we'd stay up real late and talk. She used to tell me all sorts of things. Stuff she remembered, stuff she only kinda remembered, and even the things she barely remembered at all. Wanna know what we talked about the most?"  
  
Youji is absorbing this with furrowed eyebrows, not quite sure how he should be taking it all in. However, with the attention back on him, he realizes just how desperate he is to know everything he can. Firmly, Youji nods for his companion to continue.  
  
Loving how things are turning out just as she had hoped, Toto grins even wider than before. "We talked about *you*, Oniisan!" she cries excitedly, and then quickly explains after seeing Youji's devastating expression. "Well, neither of us knew it was you *then*, but I'm sure of it now! Noi always used to tell me she felt like she was missing her other half. In fact, she was sure there was someone out there who knew who she really was, and that they were really worried about her. But...she couldn't remember who they were. The only thing she remembered was being happy. Of course, after awhile, she didn't talk about it at all anymore. The place Papa Masafumi found her in had been really terrible, and she was so happy when he saved her. I guess, somehow...she started thinking *he* was her other half..."  
  
Toto's voice trails off a little with those last few words, and her smile seems washed away again, distant. Without a doubt, though somewhat stunted, she is not stupid, and the darling girl realizes how difficult talking about Asuka must be for Youji. Of course she does; it is the same for her.  
  
"I...I don't mean to make you sad, Balinese-san." Toto begins again, softly, looking beseechingly at the man next to her, and noticing the tears flooding his emerald eyes, though he refuses to let them fall. "I just wanted you to know...that even though it seemed like she forgot you...Noi...Asuka...really did love you."  
  
Defiantly, a tear does indeed find its way down Youji's pale cheek, and despite his aching heart, he looks back at Toto with a smile. Not a forced or false smile, but a genuine one, full of gratitude. "Arigato, Nanami." he speaks gently. "I know you didn't have to tell me all this, but I'm very glad you did."  
  
"Oh, I'm so happy!" Toto exclaims, leaping up from her crate. "It still makes me sad sometimes when I remember everyone who died, but I know Noi would have wanted me to tell you the truth, since she really wasn't herself in the end. But now, I just know everything's going to better!"  
  
Unexpectedly, Toto dives across the space separating her from Youji, and wraps her arms around his neck in a rigorous hug. The dashing ladies man, though thrown somewhat off balance, lets out a good-natured laugh at this welcome surprise, and gladly hugs her back.  
  
When Toto finally pulls away, Youji is flustered at the feeling of her hand slipping out of his back pocket, though he hadn't noticed it slipping in. With a confused expression, he raises an eyebrow at her odd action and growing grin, soon realizing what she has to smile so deviously about when he sees what she is holding in her hand.  
  
"Hey, give those back, you little thief!"  
  
The aqua-haired girl is proudly displaying Youji's last pack of cigarettes high above her head. "Gomen ne, Oniisan, but these are mine now!" she taunts in reply, dashing out of reach. "Baka! They're bad for you. I bet you didn't smoke when Noi was around, ne?"  
  
Though he had started to go after her, Youji stops dead in his tracks, not because he is angry, but because he cannot believe he never realized this before. "Heh...you're right. I didn't start smoking until *after* Asuka disappeared..."  
  
"Then...this is a good time to quit, don't you think?"  
  
There is a tangible pause, as if someone pressed the "still" button on a VCR, while Youji stares ahead at the girl dangling his cigarettes dangerously over the open dumpster against the side of the shop. How childish really, but there is something so perfect in the innocence of the mind of a child - like the mind of this unique girl. Perhaps she isn't as innocent as some, but her intentions are so pure, Youji can't help grinning right along with her.  
  
"You are absolutely right, Nanami. Go ahead...toss 'em."   
  
And she does, with a huge smile on her face to rival the one beaming back at her. What a miracle.  
  
Returning to Youji with a skip in her step, Toto giggles sweetly, while he throws her his famous, come hither expression, gently taking her by the arm to lead her back down the alley. "Those lovely ladies from across the street will be calling Weiss over pretty soon." he begins suavely. "So, while we still have some time, I am going to treat you to a fresh bouquet of flowers, my dear. Your choice."  
  
Toto blushes, hugging his arm innocently. "Silly, Oniisan." she laughs. And then, noticing the intricate tattoo on the upper portion of her escort's arm, she inquires, "Sin? Why would you have a tattoo that says that? Because of being an assassin?"  
  
Now it is Youji's turn to blush - at least a little. "You could say that. But...there's more than one reason." he answers secretively. "Tell you what, I'll explain all about it...if you promise me something."  
  
"What...?" Toto prompts, looking up into his emerald eyes sparkling as if they hold the truth to something no one is supposed to know.  
  
"Drop the oniisan business. Call me Yotan."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Some calls should be ignored. Especially ones this early in the morning.   
  
Schuldrich, though still half asleep, has to see Brad. Actually, Brad sent for him, but that translates quite easily into "he has to see him."  
  
Casually, the German raps his fist on his leader's bedroom door, tempted to enter without consent just to see what kind of reaction he might get. Unfortunately, Brad answers immediately for him to come in, so the poor red-head is robbed of such a delectable opportunity.  
  
"Your servant at your service, Bradley." Schu calls teasingly as he opens the door.  
  
Brad is not amused. "Stop that. It is becoming irritating."  
  
The handsome brunette is dressed in his usual attire of late. Not the old, familiar suits and ties, but a slightly more relaxed wardrobe. Today it is a pair of slacks and a dark, button-down shirt. Whatever added ease one might expect from more comfortable clothing, however, is somehow lost on Brad Crawford.  
  
"I have a job for you." the dark-haired man continues, in far too serious a tone for Schuldrich's liking. "I need you to pay the little kittens a visit."  
  
Despite how very welcome this proposition is, Schu doesn't react as he normally would. His crowded mind is overrun by preceding thoughts he hasn't been able to shake. "What about Farfie? He's been in that thing all night, ya know?"  
  
"Farfarello can wait. This is important."  
  
The deadly tone of Brad's words - filled with an impression of animosity that has been steadily growing for quite some time - and the clearly visible circles under the American's eyes, perks Schuldrich's curiosity. "What do you want me to do...?"  
  
Fiendishly, Brad's lips curl back in an ugly grin. "Aren't you a telepath?"  
  
Easily getting the hint, Schuldrich takes the bait, devouring everything he possibly can from Brad's mind, and reveling in this rare opportunity into such a haunting mystery. What he is allowed to find is limited, nevertheless, and he quickly discovers what his assignment is supposed to be.  
  
Feline-like, jade eyes instantly widen, near disbelief, though the German's smile holds its vigil over the rest of his features. "Are you sure about this? I didn't think you wanted to *kill* them. At least, not yet."  
  
"Don't worry. The message I am sending will get across, and there will still be plenty of kittens for you to play with after it is done." Brad assures him. "Do you understand what to do?"  
  
To put it mildly, Schuldrich is on cloud nine. "Oh, I understand. I can practically taste it already."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Behavior is a matter of taste.  
  
"Youji-kun!" Echoes an irritated voice throughout the shop.   
  
Being a Monday morning, "Kitty in the House" is booming for business. Ok, so since most of the rabid fangirls are still in school right now, things are pretty slow, but that doesn't mean anyone has the right to sluff off. Including Mr. Procrastination.  
  
"Cool your shorts, bishounen. I'm having a conversation." Youji calls dismissively, not even bothering to turn around and face the annoyed boy behind him.  
  
Omi plants his hands angrily on his hips after tying back his apron, and glares into the back of his teammate's head. The playboy is sitting at the main counter with Toto, as he has been ever since bringing her inside for a complimentary arrangement of tulips - her choice.  
  
"Conversation? You're hitting on her!" the blue-eyed boy declares in disgust. "Don't you have any sense of self-control? Nanami is very - VERY - spoken for, remember?"  
  
"Hey, she knows I'm harmless." Youji counters, swinging around defensively. "Can I help it if I'm charismatic? We've been talking about Asuka and Nagi the entire time. I swear!"  
  
Though going against his better judgment, Omi finds himself wanting to believe his older friend, and with only a mildly distrusting final glance, he absorbs himself in watering the neglected ferns against the side wall.  
  
Ran and Aya are also working about the shop, finishing up an order scheduled to be picked up later in the afternoon. Separately, both have an uncanny knack for creating works of art in flora, so naturally, combined they are matchless beyond compare.  
  
Within their newfound closeness, the Fujimiyas could be picture-perfect models of the ideal siblings. More and more, Ran has been opening up to his dear imoto and cherished friends, as if flood gates have burst open from inside his soul, after being trapped behind walls of concrete for so many years. He - along with all his teammates - had often felt in the past that they were beyond redemption. Never could they have imagined their saviors would arrive in such familiar disguises to prove them wrong.  
  
All it took was the promise - the presence - of hope.  
  
Just as the shop's lone customer slips out the door, an easily recognizable young woman slips in past them. "Attention bishounen!" Amaya greets zealously, walking towards the front counter with her somewhat arrogant, though regal stride. Then, after noticing Toto and Aya, she adds, "And bishoujo. Time for the family meeting!"  
  
"Family meeting?" Omi restates with a rather bemused expression.  
  
Amaya grins playfully, admiring the bit of dirt clinging to Omi's slender hands, and sends him a playful wink. "Of course, Bombay-kitten. Unless...you'd rather be *more*. I certainly wouldn't mind."   
  
The girl's subtlety causes Omi to blush deeply, and he nearly drops his water bottle onto the tiled floor. (She never quits, does she? Am I cursed, or something? I keep attracting these straight-forward women...)   
  
"Mornings are usually slow." Ran states simply, already slipping his apron over his head as he leaves his sister to complete the final touches on the order they were working on. "Aya should be able to handle things for awhile."   
  
Aya, however, is not willing to be left alone - and out of what is going on - for the third time in a row. "Wrong, Oniichan. The shop *will* be fine, but as a temporarily closed shop, not a short-handed one. I'm coming, too."  
  
Seeming about to protest, Ran opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off before he can say a word.  
  
"No buts, Ran." Aya explains firmly, slipping her apron off as well. "I already know everything that's going on anyway, and it's not as if I'll be in any danger if I go across the street. For the first time since I woke up, you've been acting like more than just a statue towards me. I need to be apart of your life, Oniichan. I don't want to be left in the dark anymore."  
  
Stepping up to him with imploring, determined eyes, Aya easily crumbles whatever defense Ran had been planning to counter her with. After all, she is right. Defeated, the tall red-head releases a long, yielding sigh. "You win." he concedes, smiling faintly. "We'll *all* go. Come on."  
  
Obediently, everyone begins to file out of the shop, leaving the many forms of plant-life to themselves. Omi hangs up his apron, immediately becoming attached to Amaya's arm once his hands are free; Youji, not having an apron to put away, plays the part of the gentleman by holding the door open for Toto; Ran and Aya confidently exit the shop side by side; and...wait a minute...  
  
"We forgot Ken-kun!" Aya exclaims suddenly, just as she is about to cross the street. "He was in the shower when the rest of us came down this morning. I'll go yell for him to come when he's ready, so just go on ahead without me."  
  
With that, Aya dashes back inside, leaving the others to follow her instructions. Nevertheless, being quite anxious to rejoin everyone, she comes to the bottom of the stairs leading up to the apartment, and stops.   
  
"KEN! WE'RE GOING OVER TO "KITTEN'S CAFE!" ARE YOU COMING?!"  
  
There is a slight pause as Aya waits for an answer, but soon a muffled reply calls back from somewhere above her. "BE THERE IN A MINUTE!"  
  
"HAI! SEE YOU THERE!"  
  
Satisfied, Aya trots back outside, flicking the light switch off behind her, which casts eerie shadows on the walls from so many exotic plants, and throws most of the shop into darkness.  
  
Upstairs, Ken has just gotten out of the shower, and is clumsily shaking out his wet hair after slipping a black T-shirt over his head. Following a restless night's sleep, he had been the last one to get up this morning.  
  
(Uck. I look like a drown rat.) he thinks irritably, after taking a last minute look in the hall mirror before racing down the stairs. (No time. I don't wanna miss out on anything. Who knows, maybe she'll like the wet look...)  
  
Abruptly, Ken stops just as he lands at the bottom of the stairs, wondering for a moment where the hell that last thought came from. But, after vigorously rubbing his eyes, he decides to forget about it.   
  
The shop is incredibly black as he feels his way through, despite the bright sunshine outside, and - being Hidaka Ken - he has a slight reputation as a klutz. Staring straight ahead at the meager illumination coming through the windows, the poor boy doesn't even notice the box about to disrupt his steps.  
  
"Itai!!" he cries out in pain, hopping on one foot while fiercely gripping the other, after stubbing it with more force than he would have liked. "K'so! Why did they have to leave me a pitch-black trail to the door? Urrg! What I wouldn't give for some light..."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
(Light...? Better be careful what you wish for, pretty kitty.)  
  
The sun is rising higher in the sky already, blazing down upon the earth with its scorching rays, and warming the cold, dewy ground. The wetness on the blades of grass carry with them a distinctive scent of refreshing beauty and life, as if holding their own consciousness, and trying to capture the unsuspecting into remaining outdoors longer than they should.  
  
Nature can be so deceiving - as can her children.  
  
(My poor, pretty pet...) Schuldrich ponders thoughtfully, peeking at "Kitty in the House" from behind a newsstand across the street. At this viewpoint, he is also out of sight from the inhabitants of "Kitten's Cafe." Safely hidden from any prying eyes. (...you're in for a surprise, I'm afraid. Hehe. Everything is already in place, and your friends won't be able to save you...)  
  
Following Brad's orders, the sly red-head had eagerly departed for the popular flower shop, taking with him the deadly item he was told to bring along. With this object now planted in the building's basement - after some fast-moving footwork - time is quickly ticking away for the last remaining occupant.  
  
(The message is gonna get across, all right. Hehehe. You better run for it...)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Maybe I should just run for it." Ken speaks aloud, in an edgy, frustrated voice. "Yeah, a lot of good that would do me. I'd probably end up tripping over a bag of fertilizer and breaking my nose."  
  
Surrendering, the short-tempered brunette proceeds to feel his way to the door, thankful that his eyes are becoming more and more adjusted to the darkness as he gets closer and closer to freedom. At last, he reaches it, and with a relieved smile, lifts an arm to push open the door.  
  
(...hello, kitten...)  
  
Ken stops dead, his limbs turning to stone, and his heart instantly jumps into his throat at this intruding, unexpected guest into his thoughts.  
  
(...sleep tight...)  
  
BOOM!  
  
  
*****A/N***** Mwahahaha!! Now that's a cliffhanger! Poor Ken-Ken. Will he be alright, or has he become nothing more than chared flesh amongst the rubble? You'll just have to wait and find out. Smooches!! 


	11. 11

*****11*****  
  
  
How reliable is perception?  
  
The way we perceive things makes up for much of what we think about the world. Different people see certain aspects of life in different ways, because we all have different opinions. But, does that mean our perceptions are lies?  
  
I wonder...  
  
Some people look in the mirror and see a horror before them - they are too fat, too ugly, too short, too much of a fashion nightmare - instead of seeing the natural beauty every one of their friends sees.   
  
And there's more.  
  
Where some see failure, others see opportunity; where some see trash, others see treasure; where some see a work of a art, others see nothing but a black square on a white canvas.  
  
Perception is what we alone see for ourselves, and it is a rare occurrence indeed when someone is able to change another person's mind. After all, seeing is believing - for most of us. If we see and feel it, we believe it - case closed.  
  
But, if no one else is ever going to see things as we do, then what does it matter? It is a paradox, a headache, I would personally like to lock out of my mind forever. Yes, I know I am always going to have my own perception of things, but if I let those distortions cloud my judgment, I am never going to get anywhere, and neither will you.   
  
Want me advice? Stop seeing what isn't there.  
  
See what you want to see...  
  
  
*****   
  
  
(...everything...is so dark...) He speaks, or so he believes he does, hearing his tired voice bouncing around inside his head. (...where am I...? Why...why can't I move...?)  
  
Hidaka Ken is lost. He feels it deep within himself like an overpowering shadow; his body is numb and cold - nonexistant. For what seems like miles in every direction, there is nothing but black - heartless and terrifying - clawing at the skin of his spirit.  
  
(...no...I remember...but it can't be real...) His desperate words echo around him, taunting as if to confirm his fears. (...the shop...blew apart...and I was still inside...there was fire everywhere...burning my skin...oh, God...if it really happened then...I...I'm...dead...?)  
  
If he still had a body with which to cry from, tears would be flowing freely down Ken's face. It is true he has risked his life countless times before, but facing the possibility of death is nothing compared to facing it for real.  
  
(...I can't be...I can't be dead yet...not when we're so close...) he continues, struggling to come up with some other possibility, though there is none to be found. (...I don't want to be dead...please...I can't...leave everyone...not before - )  
  
"...Siberian..."  
  
(...huh...who...is someone calling me...?)  
  
"Siberian...wake up...you're crying..."  
  
Someone *is* calling him, like an angel's voice being carried on the wind. A rushing, blinding surge of hope fills Ken then, realizing he recognizes who is speaking his name. (...Nori...but it can't be...if she's here...then...I'm...! I have to open my eyes!!)  
  
Light. The darkness of his clouded mind is torn apart by light as his heavy eyelids force themselves open. All the numbness, the cool nothing of inky black, is instantly replaced by searing pain like needles piercing every one of his nerves from the tips of his toes to the ends of his eyelashes.  
  
"...ugh...I...feel like I'm...burning up..."  
  
"Shhh...you'll be all right." comforts Nori's oddly gentle voice, sounding so very far away. "Just lie still."  
  
Ken's vision is somewhat blurred as he moves his head to gather in his surrounding, but as the images begin to focus around him, he sees that he is in an unfamiliar room - an unfamiliar bed. The walls are a deep blue, covered with wide varieties of posters from different movies and anime, and though he cannot get a very clear look at everything, the place is - to put it kindly - a complete mess of strewn clothing, books, and some things he couldn't even imagine putting a name to.  
  
"Where...am I...?" he asks weakly, turning to the blue-haired haze slowing forming into a person beside him.   
  
"You're in my room above "Kitten's Cafe."  
  
Though this answer is exactly what Ken expected to hear, it means something he is not prepared to face, and his voice quivers in involuntary denial. "...no...the shop...it didn't...it...it's gone, isn't it...?"  
  
Her face now clearly in focus, Ken unmistakably catches the momentary flinch Nori gives before answering. "I wish I could tell you no..." she begins sadly. "...but that wouldn't be the truth. There is very little left, I'm afraid. We are not positive who did this, but it was most likely Schwartz. A warning for us to keep out of their way, I suppose."  
  
Ken nods vaguely, turning away from her to lie the side of his face against the pillow, and hide the lone tear sliding across his cheek - though Nori has already witnessed many silent, salty drops while he was sleeping.  
  
Home - their home - is gone. Everything Ken owned, everything he cherished, is nothing but ashes and rumble across the street. His whole life had been in that apartment.  
  
"...I can't...believe it..." the brunette whispers in shock. "...everything's gone...and I was right there...I was...I was caught in the explosion!" Like an eruption himself, Ken suddenly shoots up in bed, looking to Nori with wild, ocean-colored eyes gleaming with unnatural light. "I was...I was..." he repeats, hyperventilating while trying to speak. "I can still...remember...the heat of the fire...lapping at my skin...God...I must be -"  
  
As quickly as it had begun, Ken's ranting ceases, for he has looked down at his hands and bare chest, now revealed as the sheet falls away from his upper body. Other than a few thin bandages, he appears perfectly fine.  
  
Hysterically, Ken shakes his head, staring in unbelieving horror at his unscarred body. "This is...impossible...! I should have burns all over. Why...how...?"  
  
"Calm down, Siberian." Nori cuts in with authority, while firmly grabbing hold of his shoulders to keep him still. "It's all right. Yes, you were badly injured from the explosion, but Aiko and Nagi worked together to heal you. Granted, their work wasn't perfect - the damage you sustained was very serious - but scarring should be minimal. Even the pain will fade soon enough."  
  
Like some unsettled child after a nightmare, Ken looks back into Nori's silver eyes, silently begging her for more reassurance, while thanking her for being there at the same time. Gradually, he allows her to lie him back down, but shakes his head intently as she moves to lift the sheet back up over his chest.   
  
His skin still feels like it's on fire.  
  
"I'm...I'm ok...I'll be ok..." he speaks fervently, almost in a chant. Panic is still very much a persistent presence throughout his throbbing veins. "Everyone...everyone else is all right?"  
  
Giving a small, comforting smile, Nori nods, while leaning back in her chair beside the bed. Her actions alone are enough to calm Ken's desperate thoughts, more than mere words possibly could.  
  
"Guess I missed the meeting then, didn't I...?" he presses on, forcing a smile of his own, and attempting to appear more collected, though he is visibly shaking beneath the covers. "I know Ran and the others are probably trying to keep what happened under a low profile right now, but did you guys learn anything new while I was...recovering?"  
  
Though Nori's intuition tells her she should force her patient into getting some rest, her understanding for his concerns overshadows everything else. "Not really." she admits. "Nagi told us everything he could about Schwartz' plans, but their leader seems to be keeping most of the final details to himself. You didn't miss anything."  
  
In reflex to Nori's newfound, pleasant tone of voice, Ken unwittingly breaks into a grin - a real one. How foolish he feels for having lost control in front of such a strong-willed woman. Yet, this fact only delights him further while being in her company. Beyond his own comprehension, he adores having someone who knows him - his secrets - unlike anyone else in his life.   
  
The girl in question, with a slight toss of ringlet curls, tilts her head down, as if shying away from Ken's locking gaze on her.   
  
Could she actually be blushing...?  
  
(She is so beautiful...) Ken admires, tracing the lines of Nori's face with his eyes, and ignoring the annoying little voice inside his head calling him a fool. (...and here I am with her...after cheating death for the millionth time...loving that she is so close...)  
  
"What are you staring at?" Nori's hesitant voice breaks into his daydreaming, shades of pink visibly flushing to her usually pale cheeks.  
  
Blinking shamefully, the injured brunette averts his eyes, silently reprimanding himself for getting caught. "Sumimasen...I'm just...grateful for your company. I would have hated to wake up alone."  
  
"Well...someone had to watch over you." she smiles, trying to dismiss her concerns, though she secretly had jumped at the opportunity to nurse him back to health. Nori feels she owes him for being so disagreeable when they first met. "I figured, why not let me be the one to take care of you? I was pretty bad-tempered with you before, after all."  
  
Simultaneously, silver and aqua eyes turn back to look at one another, and Nori and Ken hold motionless within their gaze - utterly silent. Like mist from a waterful, something passes between them, so tangible they can feel it on their skin, yet so fleeting it is nearly impossible to hold onto.   
  
Absently, Ken reaches under his blanket to scratch a pestering itch on his thigh, still with his attention drawn on Nori and the sweet stillness of the moment that has captured them. This normally simple action, however, causes the young brunette to realize something he hadn't noticed before.  
  
His legs are bare - and they are not the only things.  
  
"Ahh!!" Ken cries out in embarrassment, shattering their gentle silence, and springing up into a sitting position again, while grabbing at the sheet to wrap it more tightly around himself. "I'm naked! Why didn't you say anything?!"  
  
This hilarious break into such a tender exchange of soundless glances, forces a riddle of laughter to pour out through Nori's breathy voice, practically doubling her over in amusement. "Oh, don't be so childish!" she chides. "You know I used to have a brother. It's not as if I have never seen certain things before."  
  
"S...seen...? You mean you -"  
  
"Well, someone had to get those charred clothes off of you."  
  
If possible, Ken's turquoise eyes shoot open wider than they already are. Suffering through far too many emotions for someone having just recovered from a near-death experience, he is not too happy about this recent discovery. "...clothes...off...?" the brunette repeats, in a whole other world, while clinging rigorously to the corners of his blanket. "...you saw...but...why didn't one of the guys do it!?!"   
  
"You would have prefered one of *them* saw you naked?!"  
  
"At least they're men!"  
  
A secretive twinkle sparkles in Nori's metallic eyes. "Oh, I didn't realize you felt that way about your same sex."  
  
Just as Ken is about to counter, his mind registers the true meaning behind those words, and he instantly recoils, a look of utter terror written across his features. "I...I didn't mean...you...oh, shut up!!" he bellows, and in a state of stunned, speechless petrification, falls back hard onto the bed. "I can't win, can I? Why do these things always happen to me? Why am I the one who has to get blown up, who's always tripping over his own feet, and now *this*? You could be a little more sympathetic, you know, instead of being so...suggesting."  
  
Though Ken is staring intently at the ceiling as he speaks, the fluttering sound of soft laughter brings him back out of the storm clouds before he can rave any further. Nori is finding all of this incredibly funny. "Gomen nasai, Siberian. Really." she states, with a glorious humor to her tone. "It's just...I have never had so much fun bickering with anyone before. I love watching your face go red."  
  
This statement, naturally, causes Ken to turn even redder - though not out of frustration or anger. (So I haven't been imagining it...) he thinks curiously, with a growing smile of his own twitching at the corners of his mouth, and all his hostility forgotten. (...we're both hopeless...)  
  
"I'm the one who should appoligize." the brunette begins, lifting his head to look at Nori fully, though he remains lying down. "We both overreact more than we should, but it's wrong of me to be so edgy when you've been taking care of me all this time. Even if you did...you know...?"  
  
Nori lets out a small snicker under her breath. "Hai. I know."  
  
A flush of color springs to Ken's face while gazing into Nori's eyes again, and he forces himself to voice the question nagging at the back of his mind. "You...really like fighting with me...?"  
  
Once again there is a pause, a cease of sound and movement, like an image frozen within a picture. All Nori can do in reply to Ken's question is smile, traces of something no one else could possibly hope to decipher hidden in the expression, though Ken understands in the space of a heartbeat.  
  
Though both remain silent, the noise clammoring inside each of their minds could overpower a choir.  
  
(How could I let this happen...) Nori reprimands internally, though her regret is clearly a lie - even to herself.  
  
(...probably 'cause I'm such an idiot...) Ken resolves, as if having the very same thought, synchronized with the women sitting next to his bed.  
  
Well, her bed, actually.  
  
The scene before them seems as if it may never move foreward, but remain on pause exactly where it is, with neither able to say another word. Funny, the silence isn't awkward at all, but familiar and comfortable, as if they have peacefully spent time together all their lives.  
  
All his pain, whether truly gone or not, is nothing but a memory to Ken now. (Please, God...tell me I'm not dreaming...)   
  
  
*****  
  
  
(I'm dreaming again...)  
  
A hill. Green grass. Distant trees. Cool wind. Swirls of misted color. And...a girl.  
  
Brad Crawford recognizes his surroundings immediately this time, and thankfully, everything is much sharper to his vision, and more clearly distinguishable. This place is becoming more and more familiar as he finds himself in its clutches night after night. Yet, where he knows it from, when he might have been here, at what point in his life this memory would have happened, he does not know. His only hope of finding the truth to this serene place within his dreams, is the breeze of different hues painting a picture before his eyes, and the small figure of a young girl on the top of the hill, facing away from him.  
  
As always, her laughter singes the very air.  
  
(This time...this time I will see who she is for certain...)  
  
"You there!" he calls, moving forward towards the girl, and barely registering that his feet are more firmly planted to the ground than they have ever been before. His body is whole. "Please, tell me where this place is! What is this dream trying to show me?!"  
  
The words have been spoken in English, as they are every time, but the sound of the language feels misplaced somehow, as if Brad is not allowed to use it.  
  
Advancing on her as swiftly as possible, Brad's pulse begins to beat rapidly, watching as the girl slowly turns to face him. He freezes in anticipation, imagining finally being able to see who this mysterious girl is, and clinging to the hope that she will explain everything on why he is unable to shake these constant dreams of a past he has forgotten.  
  
(Finally...finally...)  
  
Her profile, as he has seen before, is obscure, framed by long, tightly curled hair that bounces against slender shoulders. Everything about her is so vague, while her echoing voice rings truer with each passing moment, taunting Brad for not being able to remember something that should be so plainly familiar to him.  
  
Now, however, the waiting is over, because Brad is certain everything he wishes to know will come flooding into him the moment he sees the girl's face.   
  
Almost...so close...she is turning...turning...and...now...facing him head on, her laughter increasing in pitch and volume as she looks back at him squarely in the face.  
  
(...what!?) Brad's mind cries in sheer terror, his body flinching back, and preparing to sprint away at a moment's notice.   
  
Hauntingly, the girl lifts a delicate arm into the air, beckoning him to come closer, and laughing with such ferocity, it pierces into Brad's ears like a banshee's deadly song. She is like some monster from the depths of his own consciousness, come to drag him into the maddened pit of everything he has been running from his entire life.  
  
The flashes of color on the wind rush past him in a raging blur of images now, consuming everything around him but the figure of that girl motioning him forward into her arms of darkness, like a void of black to eat him alive.  
  
But...why...?  
  
(Why...why can I still not see who she is...?!) the dark-haired man demands of the shadows, falling desperately to his knees, and clasping his hands over his ears to block out the girl's unbearable shrieking. (...her face...there is nothing there but...emptiness...why...why is she torturing me!?!)  
  
Black. Sound, vision, senses so recently on fire - the entirety explodes away into fragments, leaving Brad to the safety of true darkness from behind his closed eyes. Those eyes slowly open, displaying their metallic-bronze beauty, and glittering with the threatening presence of watery pools. Nothing will be released from them, though, because Brad Crawford would never allow it.  
  
The strong have no use for tears.  
  
"Damn this infernal nightmare!!" his harsh voice calls into the solitude of his bedroom, as he sits up fiercely, throwing his covers to the side. "If I am doomed to relive it, why can I not figure out what it means?! Why can't I see her face!?!"  
  
An angered fist slams down onto the nightstand, unsteadying the table lamp. How seldom it is for a man with such well-organized thoughts to lose control. So seldom in fact, that a certain red-haired German finds it terribly delicious while eavesdropping from behind the closed door.  
  
Knock. Knock.  
  
"Having some difficulty, Bradley?" Schuldrich asks teasingly as he enters, without waiting for consent to come in. "Nice boxers, by the way."  
  
With a glare that could unsettle the dead, Brad stands defensively, and takes an ominous step forward as a warning to his intruder. Schu, on the other hand, merely leans casually against the wall, maintaining his ever-present smirk and twinkle in his eyes.  
  
"What do you think you're doing!?" Brad roars. "Get out!!"  
  
Not intimidated in the slightest, the red-head holds a hand to his chest in mocking indignation, with a very comical expression of hurt on his face. "Grouchy. And after I've come to give you my report, too."  
  
"Report?" the American restates quizzically, still lost in the remaining traces of his dream. Gradually, the memory of his earlier orders resurface, and his eyes spark back to life, filling with accusation. "The flower shop...I sent you there this morning! Where have you been all day?"  
  
His face holding the smallest traces of the emotion associated so fittingly with his name, Schuldrich grins. "Just out having a bit of fun. There's no harm in that, is there?"  
  
Brad grimaces, folding his arms authoritatively over his chest. This common stance for the stern young man, accompanied by his frightening stare, means one thing: state what you have come to say and get the hell out, before I decide to make an example out of you.   
  
No one would dare ignore this silent order, including the darling, rebellious Schuldrich.  
  
"As I was saying..." he begins in a flash. "Mission accomplished. The kittens don't have a litter box to go home to anymore, and - just like you predicted - one of them was caught in the blast. Seems he is going to make a full recovery, though. Such a shame."  
  
"No. I want it this way." Brad corrects. "Now they will think twice before interfering with our plans, but they will still be around to suffer the affects." He allows his arms to fall back against his sides, dawning an evil smirk to rival his companion's. "They won't be able to stop us, even if they *did* steal back the girl. I have already seen it. She will be ours again soon enough, and everything will fall into place..."  
  
An awkward stillness washes over the room, the two men distinctly separate and detached from one another. Brad appears lost in contemplation of completing his desired mission, but Schuldrich's mind is somewhere else completely. It had been a very pleasurable day for the German, to say the least, but even his favorite indulgences are not enough to wipe certain thoughts from his mind.  
  
"Brad..." he begins, breaking the silence with a curious hesitation. "I think it's about time to let the dog loose again, wouldn't you say? It's been almost 24 hours."  
  
Thoughtlessly, Brad looks back at Schuldrich, as if in a power-hungry daze, barely registering what has been said. "...what? Oh, yes. Farfarello. Go ahead, you can release him if you like."   
  
More and more, this distant, troubling persona has been enveloping Brad, as if he is outside of reality, and Schuldrich is realizing that it is only worsening the closer their directive comes to being fulfilled. Perhaps the strengthening of his dream is playing some role in this...  
  
"He has had enough punishment." Brad continues, sitting down again on the edge of his bed, though his gaze makes him look very far away indeed. "Just leave me alone the rest of tonight, will you? I have a lot on my mind."   
  
Nodding, Schuldrich gladly moves towards the door, but just as he reaches it, he calls back over his shoulder with a mysteriously serious tone. "Just a thought..." he begins, pulling the door open in front of him. "Maybe you can't see her...because you aren't ready to."  
  
And with that, he exits, closing the door as he goes, and leaving Brad to brood in the private solitude of his room.  
  
What is this feeling that cannot be put into words...?  
  
  
*****  
  
  
What words could possibly describe how he is feeling?  
  
Schuldrich walks swift and soundless down the basement hallway, raking his fingers along the wall as he goes. An unseemly film is beginning to collect underneath his fingernails, but he barely registers the feeling - he can always get a manicure, after all, provided Brad pays the bill.  
  
Everything about the cellar is damp and musky like rotting flesh in the bowels of some murky swamp. The walls are stained and slimy, the floor unnaturally cold, and the air more and more difficult to breathe the closer the red-head comes to Farfarello's room.  
  
His errand may rightfully be to free the bondaged maniac, but Schuldrich's dread grows with each step he takes, nonetheless. Bear in mind, Farfie wasn't too happy about being locked up again, and considering the eerie sharpness of the albino's memory, it is almost certain he will remember who was responsible. And he is not likely to be too forgiving.  
  
He never is.  
  
(I'm losing my touch.) Schuldrich sneers, stopping in front of the large, metal door to Farfarello's cell. (Nothing's supposed to phase me - the Mastermind. This is all routine. No big deal. Farf will just be sitting there mumbling to himself, anyway. I'll walk in, let him go, and he'll sputter out some nonsense like a good schizophrenic. Same as always...)   
  
Having reassured his wavering ego, the German slips back the locks on the door, and painstakingly pulls it open.  
  
Whatever darkness the night outside has blanketed the land with, it couldn't possibly compare to the void of this forbidding room. The lights are out - smashed, most likely - leaving the entire aura of the place dangerous and haunting. Most unnerving of all, however, is not the lack of light, but that there is not a single sound emanating from inside.  
  
With a nervous, crinkled brow, Schuldrich steps slowly through the door, placing every footfall as if expecting to set off some trap after each one. He scans what he can see of the room; the bed to his right - empty; the nearest corners - bare. Only the far end of the room remains out of his range of vision.  
  
Farfarello must be there.  
  
"Hey, Farf! You can come on out now." Schu calls, despising the echo of his own voice, as if it has nothing to bounce off of but empty space. "Punishment's over. Quit playing games."  
  
There is no reply to his appeal, and Schuldrich involuntarily shudders. Normally, this wouldn't be such a chore. Farfarello is supposed to be put in his straitjacket and then fastened to the hook hanging from the ceiling. Whomever has the pleasure of taking him down later - most often Schuldrich - always knows where to find him. This time, to the German's displeasure, Farfie was not hooked up, and his whereabouts - though limited - are not a fun guessing game.  
  
"Stop messing around!" the red-head cries, growing impatient as he continues into the room, squinting to get a better look at the far corners. "Look, I know you're upset, but get over it already! You'll have to show yourself eventually if you want that thing off!"  
  
Still, no answer. By now, Schuldrich has reached the back of the room, but closer inspection shows no sign of Farfarello there, either.   
  
(Where else could he be hiding? Under the bed?)  
  
Unfortunately, he is not going to get the chance to find out for himself, because someone is about to find him first.  
  
Before Schuldrich can turn around to go investigate the mangled bed, a jingling sound catches his attention from behind. Almost as if the wind has mysteriously blown the chain and hook above him slightly, the red-head hopes to dismiss the sound, but being it is coupled with a second, most familiar clink - like buckles on a straitjacket - there is no way he can.  
  
As if spreading wings to fly, Farfarello suddenly leaps down from suspending himself on the hook that has so often suspended him, free from his straitjacket, and holding it stretched taut in front of him. Even swift Schuldrich is not fast enough to turn before his teammate wraps a coarse sleeve around his throat from behind.   
  
Fate is indeed a cruel mistress.  
  
"Far...what...sto...p..." the struggling red-head attempts to voice, while clawing at his neck and flailing wildly to free himself. Quickly realizing he cannot possibly talk his way out of this situation, Schu switches to a more accustomed form of communication.   
  
(Farf, what the hell are you doing!?! Get off me! I can't breathe!!)  
  
Surprise, surprise. He gets no answer.   
  
Delirious with panic, Schuldrich thrusts his mind into Farfarello's, searching madly for the source of this crazed action. Granted, the Irishman's actions are usually crazed, but they have never been directed at a fellow member of Schwartz before. Especially not Schu.  
  
Remarkably, Farfie's mind is not what the red-head expects to find in the slightest. It is not a random - though oddly organized - array of thoughts on God, pain, destruction, or any of the usual vices, as it should be. On the contrary, Farfarello's mind is so vaguely focused, Schuldrich can't read it at all.  
  
Flustered and at a loss of what to do, he draws a blank, sinking to the floor as the fuzzy numbness of unconsciousness threatens to take control of what strength he has left. Farfarello remains standing behind him, tightening his grip, but even if Schu was in a position to see his attacker's face, it wouldn't make a difference, because there is nothing to see. Not due to the darkness of the room, but on account of his utterly blank features, devoid of emotion.  
  
He is simply doing what he has to.  
  
Schuldrich, sensing he cannot win this battle, fights to send one final, frantic question to his hardened contradiction of a friend, even surprising himself with what leaves his mind's voice, in such a frightened inner tone.   
  
(...are you...going to kill me...?)  
  
Nothing.  
  
The beaten German is rewarded with no answer - good or bad - to follow him into the deep sleep he sinks into. The fight is over.  
  
Using great care, Farfarello slips the jacket away from Schu's neck, gently allowing him to fall completely to the floor, sprawled neatly as if only peacefully asleep. The "weapon", on the other hand, is tossed thoughtlessly against the wall.  
  
Ask anyone and they'll tell you, it is always more frightening when a killer wears a mask of calm rather than a snarling expression of repressed rage. If their face is blank, you cannot possibly hope to know what they are thinking, and when their motive, their purpose, is left unclear, they seem all the more a monster.  
  
Farfarello stares down at the still body by his feet, reaching into his pockets to pull out his treasured blades. The outline of Schuldrich's body is the only thing distinguishable in the blackness of the room, however, and even the knives give no sparkle, no gleam at all with which to entice. The sole presence remaining tangible is the resonance of Schu's final thoughts.  
  
(...are you...going to kill me...?)  
  
The daggers are tucked away again, without hesitation, and Farfarello bends down to lift the lean body of his unconscious companion into his arms. Knowing his room as keenly as a cat knows its way home, the Irishman makes his way over to the slashed bed, not missing a step in the darkness, and lays Schuldrich down upon the mattress.  
  
He stands there for a long time, watching the steady rhythm of the red-head's chest, still with no traces of anything written on his pale features. Finally, Farfarello turns and takes a step towards the open door - his freedom - only to turn back again.   
  
His one, golden eye locks on Schuldrich's forehead - over the red-head's brow rests an unforgettable piece of yellow cloth, with strands of sunset hair whisping over it. Lately, Schuldrich hasn't been wearing his cherished bandanna, but for some unknown reason, he had chosen to wear it today.  
  
Resolutely, Farfie moves his hands underneath Schuldrich's head and unties the article, holding it up to the meager light pouring in from the hall once it comes free.  
  
This will be enough.   
  
Farfarello pockets the bandanna - on the same side as the dagger given to him by his red-headed teammate - and moves for the door, contented now, without looking back.  
  
Be afraid world. Your end is closer than ever before.  
  
  
*****A/N***** Ooo, I love this chapter! Ken-Ken is fine, and Farfie is free! Whoohoo! Also, Brad's dream went a step further, but he still saw nothing. What does it all mean. Keep reading and you'll find out. On a side note, this chapter - namely, the part between Schu and Farf - always makes me think of something. Schuldrich is by far one of the most sadistic villains I have ever encountered, and Farfarello...well...there is no mistaking his masochistic tendencies. So...if you put the two of them together...you get S & M!!! HAHAHAHA!! Ok, I'm fine. I just had to mention that. See you next chapter! 


	12. 12

*****12*****  
  
  
How much stock do you put in faith?  
  
Faith. Believing in something without proof, right? Without being able to touch it, hear it, or even know without a doubt whether it exists? Sounds pretty demanding to me. We're only human, so how can we possibly be expected to grasp a concept like this? Seeing is believing, remember? This isn't a new subject I'm talking about; they are all part of the same thing. They just have different names.  
  
God granted us the gifts of faith, hope, and love, with the greatest of these being love. Of course, he didn't mention how fucking hard all of them were going to be for his "children" to live with. Oh no. That would be way too accommodating. Instead, we get to tough things out on our own.  
  
Peachy.   
  
It doesn't take very long to figure things out, though. Life sucks. Life is unfair. Good people get hurt, and bad people don't always get what's coming to them, despite what the movies tell us. There are no super-heroes, because human beings are - gasp - human.  
  
All this leaves us so much room for faith, doesn't it? Get serious. We are supposed to throw out everything we know, everything solid and factual, and believe in something we can't even see?  
  
Damn straight.  
  
No, faith is not easy. In fact, hope and love aren't picnics, either. But we're stuck with them. We are blessed with them. And praise be to God for sending them down. I certainly wouldn't be able to survive without them. You can pretty much bet I'd be enjoying a permanent, dirt-cushioned bed right now if I hadn't given in and surrendered to ideals like faith, and I would not be alone.  
  
Even if you're thinking I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, it's a fact that you have faith in something in your life right now, no matter how small. Maybe you have faith in your friends. Maybe you have faith in your family. Maybe you have faith in your family wanting to borrow money every couple of months. Maybe you have faith in your bills coming in the mail. Maybe you have faith in your back going out when you try and move that couch upstairs next weekend.   
  
Maybe you have faith in God.  
  
Life without faith - without beliefs, without hope, without love - is worthless. You might be one of those unfortunate souls who has faith solely in the fact that God does *not* exist. That we made Him up. Believe what you will. We are all different, after all. Just remember, although some people live without the finer qualities in life...  
  
Even a psychopath can believe in God.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Stale air singes his lungs with each staggering breath, the dull, humid heat of his surroundings making him nauseous just thinking about opening his tired eyes and getting up. This sleep is not peaceful, restful, or even desired, but it is certainly more welcome than what he is most likely going to find once he gives in and rises.  
  
Awakening against his will, and keeping his jade eyes clenched shut, Schuldrich stirs ever so slightly, his trembling fingers twitching at the mattress below him. He knows he is alive, but in what condition was he left? What did Farfarello do to him before escaping into the unsuspecting world?  
  
(...he didn't kill me...so...what *did* he do...?) Schu wonders pensively, consumed by an emotion he had thought long forgotten: fear. (...I'm in shock...that's why I can't feel any pain...) he reasons, holding as still as possible on the bed. (...he probably...cut me apart...and it just hasn't hit me yet...)  
  
His entire body is shaking, with breaths coming in desperate gasps. This child-like trauma, however, is not only enveloping Schuldrich because he believes Farfarello left him in some grotesque state worse than death, but because his friend betrayed him, even if "friends" is never what they were.  
  
Afraid of what he might find, but stir-crazy to know the truth, Schu shoots open his eyes, discovering the high ceiling looking down on him. Despite his expectations, he still feels no pain.   
  
Cautiously, the red-head lifts an arm, turning it in the air to make sure it hasn't been severed. He then lifts the other - with the same result - and proceeds to check over his entire body, without moving his head to look for wounds or missing pieces face to face. To his thrilled surprise, there isn't a scratch on him.  
  
"I'm not...a mangled mess...? What's going on?" Schuldrich asks the air, sitting up sharply with the smallest hints of a relieved smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I guess I owe him one..."  
  
Achingly, and with a pounding headache from the lack of oxygen he had sustained, the German swings his legs over the side of the bed to get his bearings, running a shaky hand through his tousled hair. Though he hadn't really noticed at first, this instinctive motion forces Schuldrich to take pause and register an unexpected peculiarity.   
  
His bandanna is gone.   
  
The red-head stands stiffly, allowing his common grin to spread into an expression of pleased humor. "The little rat took my favorite possession." he comments, grandly shaking out his long mane of orange hair. "I hope he knows I'll be expecting it back."  
  
Longing to break free of this stifling room, Schuldrich moves swiftly for the door, but pauses before he exists to look back into the darkened cell. Contrary to his beaming smirk, a flicker of sorrow overshadows him as he surveys the empty room. It isn't right without Farfarello there. Nothing seems right anymore.  
  
"Hmph." he voices condescendingly, turning on his heals, and practically laughing out the words that follow. "We're falling apart at the seams! Hehehe. Bradley's gonna love this!"  
  
His laughter continues - loud and misleading - while the foolish red-head prowls down the hallway as if he hasn't a care in the world. Why is it mankind can deceive themselves so willingly? Why even bother? Why not face facts? Why not accept the truth?  
  
Why? Because we're cowards.   
  
  
*****  
  
  
Why? Because that's the way things are.  
  
The night is at its peak - dark, cold, and never-ending. It has been a long day, and though time has a reputation of ticking away agonizingly slow, the clock already reads past midnight. Even at this late hour, a couple stragglers are still clanking around in the downstairs shop at "Kitten's Cafe." Ever since the early morning disruption from across the street, both Weiss and Fleusternd had congregated around the cafe stand to work out how they were going to proceed in their mission. The shop was most definitely closed all day due to this, and once the authorities were dealt with concerning the destruction of "Kitty in the House," everyone realized just how much they had to talk about.  
  
Naturally, Ken and Nori had taken awhile to join the rest of the group, but most of them were happy enough just to see the ex-J-leaguer on his feet - alive and breathing.   
  
Now, with traces of exhaustion clearly evident from everyone, the entire group has headed upstairs to deal with sleeping arrangement so they can get themselves to bed. Only Aiko and Amaya remain downstairs as they finish locking the place up for the night.   
  
"Hurry it up, slow-poke!! I don't wanna get stuck sleeping in the same room as Hiromi." Amaya complains, after putting the last few dishes away, and conspicuously inching towards the upstairs door.  
  
Aiko merely laughs, returning from bolting the front entrance. "Go ahead without me then, if you're that impatient. I just want to wipe up the counter a little. That cup of tea Bombay spilled when you tickle-attacked him earlier will be a sticky mess in the morning if I don't."  
  
Reminiscent of her pleasurable prank, the dark-haired pixie giggles, dashing for upstairs with an appreciative wave.  
  
"Don't turn off the main lights!" Aiko calls after her, while slipping behind the cafe counter. "I'll get them later!"  
  
The day has indeed been a tiresome one, with far too many unforeseen events, and the strain of it all is throbbing through Aiko's joints. Sleep is calling the fatigued red-head - deciding for her that wiping off the counter is without a doubt the last thing she is going to do before heading upstairs.  
  
Bending down beneath the countertop, Aiko searches for a rag, grumbling slightly at how no one ever puts things back where they belong. Her hunt is cut short, however, because while digging in the shelves and drawers, she suddenly finds herself thrown into darkness.  
  
Aiko groans, shooting up from her crouched position. "Amaya, I said *don't* turn off the lights!" she shouts at the ceiling, knowing very well the girl couldn't possibly hear her. Yet, somehow, she gets an answer anyway...  
  
"She didn't." a low, cold-hearted voice echoes from the shadows. "*I* did."  
  
The voice is eerie and frighteningly familiar, causing the red-head to become a pillar of ice right where she stands. Out of the darkness steps a young man with short, white hair, pale skin, countless scars, and a single golden eye, holding no signs of mercy or compassion in its tawny depth.   
  
"Jei..." Aiko breathes, her voice quivering in paralyzation.  
  
Farfarello's eye narrows, while his arms lift from his sides to show the two glinting blades held in such slender hands. "Stop...calling me that..." he growls, advancing on her in long strides. "My name is Farfarello. Remember...because you'll be screaming it before I'm through with you!!"  
  
Like an electric current, the albino lunges for Aiko over the countertop, forcing her to back-peddle clumsily in a panic to get out of his reach. She rams hard into the cappuccino machine, grunting with the unexpected pain, but immediately rushes around to the other side of the cafe stand, madly escaping it in hopes of somehow reaching safety.  
  
No such luck for the red-head, unfortunately, for just as she slips out from behind the counter on the opposite side, Farfarello is suddenly right next to her, pinning her down against the tile of the tabletop.   
  
He painfully presses one of his knives to her throat before she can even breathe in protest, while tracing the other along the leg that has so unfairly healed. "Always running...running away..." Farfie whispers, his face very close to hers, while he hungrily licks at his lips. "I thought you believed in God. Loved Him even. Where is your faith, precious lamb? Won't He protect you from a sinner like me?"   
  
"Stop this, Jei..." pleads Aiko breathlessly in reply. "...you...don't mean what you're saying...what you're doing..."  
  
Farfarello throws his head back with a deranged laugh, snapping back to growl in her face, like some hungry animal rather than a man. "Pretty, little girl...you think you can save me...? Hehehehe. I'm not going to take it easy on you this time...Crawford can't stop me anymore...no...*you* are going to know true pain...hehe...and I think I'll start...by cutting that stubborn leg of yours...off."  
  
"Jei - "  
  
"Shut up!" the twisted man screams to silence her. "Jei doesn't exist! No one will save you this time. Not your friends, not your God, no one! I will have you squirming in agony to hurt Him as much as He hurt me. I will show you what pain really is, so both you and that lying bastard will feel what I went through...a suffering no one could possibly understand..."  
  
Shudder. Time slows. Both daggers are precariously pressed against Aiko's skin, and Farfarello's intentions are impossible to miss, nor ever hope to conquer. However, the trapped young woman - miraculously - no longer looks afraid.  
  
Some distance away, a silent figure has worked his way down from upstairs, and is now standing frozen behind the door, apprehensively watching the events unfolding before his eyes. Though Aiko and Farfie cannot see him, he most definitely sees them.  
  
Never one to dismiss possibility, Fujimiya Ran had decided to see what was keeping the belated Korat from joining everyone, secretly hoping he wouldn't find her in any danger - though his sixth sense kept telling him he would. After all, how could he forget what happened the last time she was alone?  
  
What a shame his hopes were in vain.  
  
Afraid to spook the known psychopath into harming the red-head before he can think of a way to save her, Ran remains as silent and stationary as possible, absorbing every word exchanged between them.  
  
Back in the center of the room, cool and calm, violet eyes stare up at Farfarello, revealing a strength that should be impossible. "You're wrong, Jei." Aiko declares boldly. "I know first hand the kind of pain you are talking about, because I have felt it myself. I have suffered just as you have. I..." she falters, fighting to tell him a truth that has been known only to herself for countless years. "...I have committed...the very same crimes as you."  
  
Farfarello's face drains of what little color it has, going entirely blank, and his hands waver in disbelief.   
  
Ran - unsteadied footing nearly giving him away - pales as well, blinking as if to assure himself he isn't dreaming. (She can't mean...)  
  
"What are you...ta...talking about...?" Farfie stutters in ragged breaths, pulling ever so slightly away from the girl beneath him.  
  
Confidently, Aiko smiles - a satisfied, yet unbearably saddened expression. "After so many years, you finally know the truth about what happened to your family. That you were the one who killed them. *You*. As a child you couldn't face it, the gnawing guilt, so you cowered away inside of yourself, blaming everything on a cruel God you believed hated you. A God who abandoned you. Perhaps, even today, you believe you were right for turning away from Him, but I am living proof of someone who has lived with the same demons you face everyday, and I kept my faith in God." Pausing, that old, familiar flame pulses from her violet eyes, threatening to burn jaggedly through the young man on the receiving end. "Just like you, Jei...I killed my family."  
  
Shattered. Everything - the air, the floor, the ceiling - shatters into thousands of tiny pieces, digging into the skin like miniature blades as the shards fall.  
  
So close - and yet so far away - Ran is a wax figure in the shadows of the half-closed door. (*That* is her secret...the truth about her troubled past...?) he mumbles internally, safe in the sanctuary of his hiding place, but horrified and unwilling to process what he has clearly heard. (I don't believe it...how...it...it has to be - )  
  
"Lies!" rings Farfarello's frantic voice, as he presses Aiko down against the countertop once more. "You're lying...trying to trick me! It's impossible! Impossible!! How could you...how -"  
  
"This..." Aiko cuts in, holding up a steady hand. "...is how."  
  
Like something out of a myth about magic and fantastical creatures, a spark ignites about an inch above her palm, growing and becoming a burning flame suspended at her control. The light from this small fire casts an unnerving glow about Aiko's features, and Farfarello releases her as if she herself burns his skin at the touch. His arms fall back to his sides, the knives hanging limp in unstable hands, and he falteringly begins to back away, confused and - unbelievably - a little afraid.  
  
"You didn't know about this, did you?" the pyrokinetic grins, steadying her footing now that she is able to stand fully again. "Brad is keeping much from you. You see, *this* is the reason he wants me. I do not know what he wishes to use my power for, but it is of little importance right now. What is important...what you must understand...is that my gift...*this* gift...is responsible for killing the people I loved most in the world."  
  
(Of course!) proclaims Ran's thoughts in epiphany. (I knew there was something strange about her power, how she wouldn't use it as a weapon when she was captured. She *is* afraid...)  
  
"It must have been an accident..." Farfarello's gruff words choke out amongst his scrambled state of mind, unable to free his gaze from the sun-colored ball of light dancing above Aiko's palm. "...you...didn't mean to kill them..."  
  
Holding her hand out in front of her, the red-head allows the fire to pulse larger, while fixing her flaming eyes on the retreating albino. "Don't jump to conclusions." she replies, an unfitting cruelty entering her voice. "Temporary insanity or no, I knew exactly what I was doing. I was even younger than you had been, but I willfully took their lives, make no mistake about that. My parents. My imoto. Our stories are the same."  
  
Abruptly, two distinctive clangs echo up to the high ceiling; Farfarello has dropped his knives to the floor, his sweaty palms having finally surrendered to forces beyond their control. He watches, mesmerized, as Aiko gracefully moves her right hand through the fire being held in the left, like a magician preparing for an illusion, and pulls it out again to reveal two separate hands - each unburned - controlling their own small flames.  
  
"Like you, Jei, my rage was ignited by the unveiling of a truth I couldn't accept." Aiko continues, wearing an almost wicked smile, so foreignly at home on her face, and taking slow, purposeful steps closer to her quarry. "A simple secret made that poor boy go a little mad for a moment or more. And as for me, I was told I was the product of an affair my mother had *after* my parents were married. Heh...I guess I went a little mad, too."  
  
Ran shivers while listening to her words, though not nearly as harshly as Farfarello is trembling, and the silent red-head's thoughts ricochet inside his mind. (She is so frightening like this...a whole other person...no wonder she always shuts down when something is upsetting her...if she were to give in to her emotions...she might lose control...)  
  
"Exceedingly strong in their devotion to God, my parents brought me up as best they knew how." persists Aiko's menacing tone. "They taught me well, loved me desperately, and I turned around and killed them. I wanted to hurt them for hurting me, but I just ended up hating everything..."  
  
The fire burning above her upturned palms suddenly spreads, as if the air around her skin is fresh kindling, until her entire form has become a burning bush. Moving forward a few steps more, Aiko nearly has Farfarello pinned against the wall, and they are only a yard or so now from Ran's hiding place.  
  
"They knew about my ability, even encouraged me to use it." Aiko speaks on, her voice a rushing whisper like spitting fire. "I was furious when I found out they had been lying all those years, so furious, so blind to my own deadly desires, that I reached deep within myself to the very center of my powers, and unleashed it all in a wave of rolling flames, decimating the entire building in a moments time. Although I remained unharmed after it was over...standing alone in a pile of rubble...no one else survived. Not a one..."  
  
Clutching the wall at his back, Farfarello is immobilized with fear. Not a fear of Aiko, exactly, but a fear in believing someone else exists who is just like him. Someone who has experienced something so similar to himself.   
  
What could it mean...?  
  
The radiant light hovering around Aiko's form wraps her in the false image of an angel sent to prove some devastating point, filled with the ferocity of God. However, finally registering what affect this is having on the young man cowering in front of her, she suddenly pulls the fire back inside of herself, and appears before him as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the slightest.  
  
The red-haired, young woman - coming to her senses - replaces her recent expression with a gentle, and much more fitting smile. "Forgive me, Jei. This is exactly what I *didn't* want." she begins, her voice back to its normal, low-toned grace. "Yes, I carry the burden of death on my shoulders just as you do, but here I stand, firmly trusting and loving the God who granted me these deadly powers. The truth is, I could have easily ended up just like you, but I was saved before things got out of hand. Saved, Jei...by your mother. I owe her everything, and I promised to repay her with the one thing she truly wanted: you. I beg of you, leave your hatred behind. It isn't worth putting the blame on Him when *you* were the one who committed the crimes you regret so much. God doesn't make the world a horrible place. We do. The reason He doesn't spring to our rescue in every instance of failure is because he granted us the gift of free will, making *us* responsible for our own actions. Don't you understand, Jei? You are a lost, little boy, longing to be relieved of your sins. Please...trust me...we can survive only by helping each other..."   
  
Cautiously, Aiko lifts a hand to Farfarello's face, tingling his skin with her warm touch against his cool cheek. The Irishman's golden eye is wide with disorder as he stares back at her, but a shaky hand of his own slowly rises up to fold over hers.  
  
(It has been...so long...since I felt pain like this...) he realizes, clutching his other hand to his aching chest. (What is this...? Guilt? Regret? Am I...sorry for the things I have done...?) Something warm and wet begins to fall from Farfarello's eyes, a feeling he barely remembers, and in an awkward surge forward, he suddenly - unbelievably - wraps strong, scarred arms around Aiko's waist, sobbing onto her shoulder. (Oh, God...please forgive me...)  
  
Aiko's smile widens beautifully as she holds this broken, young man in return, cradling his head with her hand. But...  
  
How long do miracles last?  
  
From behind the door, Ran is in a state of utter shock. He cannot believe he has witnessed this, such an odd array of events leading to an end he never dreamed possible - even if he has agreed to aide Fluesternd in their objective to do exactly what Aiko appears to have done. His disbelief, however, lingers not only on the red-head's apparent accomplishment, but on her unforgettable confession. Combined, what is he supposed to think? How can he possibly -  
  
"Fujimiya-san?"  
  
Busted. Ran's entire body tenses at the calling of his name from someone coming down the stairs. It is a somber voice, formal and hesitating. Who could it be, other than...  
  
"Nagi..." Ran whispers, spinning around and coming face to face with the smaller boy advancing from above him. "Stay quiet...they don't know I'm here..."  
  
The brunette replies with a puzzled expression after this order, tilting his head to peak through the crack in the door. "They? Who else is -" Boom. The sight of Farfie in Aiko's arms hits him like cascading iron, and his mouth drops open with eyes growing wide in sheer terror. "Farfarello...no...Aiko!!"  
  
Despite Ran's efforts to restrain the boy, Nagi rushes past him, bursting through the door in a noble attempt at saving Aiko from certain doom. The door is left open, displaying the leader of Weiss in all his spying splendor, and the oddly-matched pair break from their embrace with greatly surprised expressions.  
  
"Get away from her!" Nagi shouts angrily at the stunned albino, throwing up his delicate arms. Farfarello is tossed backwards off his feet, hitting the ground hard. "I won't let you hurt her again! I won't let you -"  
  
"Nagi, stop. It's all right." Aiko's calm voice cuts into the pressure building throughout the room. She steps towards the panicked boy then, carefully lowering his arms with her own.   
  
Looking back at her with uncomprehending, storm-cloud eyes, he can't understand why she would ever want to stop him from saving her.   
  
"Jei isn't going to hurt me." the beaming red-head pushes on, brushing Nagi's hair out of his eyes in a motherly motion. "Not anymore." She suddenly pauses, crinkling her forhead in thought. "What are you doing down here anyway?"  
  
Still very confused, and casting nervous glances at Farfarello as his former teammate picks himself up from the ground, Nagi vaguely gestures to the door - where Ran still stands like a deer caught in headlights.  
  
Lifting her eyes from the young boy, Aiko's gaze locks onto Ran's frozen figure, and her features flicker with a combination of extreme emotions. Fear. Anger. Disappointment. And...perhaps a little understanding.  
  
Ran looks away, lowering his head as if ashamed.  
  
"I...I don't know what to do..." begins Farfarello's panicked voice, cutting into the moment of silent accusations, and looking as if he is torn between falling to his knees and running for freedom. "...what do I do now...I can't...go back...I can't...stay with you...it feels wrong...it hurts so much...I don't belong anywhere..."  
  
Compassionately, Aiko reaches out to take hold of the albino's pale, gloved hand, complete confidence in her powerful grip. "No, Jei. You *do* belong here, and you *can* stay with me. The pain you feel is an unconquerable urge to release the suffering you have inflicted upon yourself by inflicting suffering on others for so long. If you truly were beyond help, beyond redemption, you would have killed me, or left a long time ago. But I'm still here. *You* are still here...aren't you?"  
  
Farfarello looks deeply into Aiko's violet eyes, and a fleeting glimpse at the others prove they are silently beseeching him just as intently as she is. Nevertheless, the turmoil within is wrenching him apart. Half of him wants to cling to the remnants of hatred that has fueled his life for more years than he can remember, but the other half is nothing but a boy, digging for traces of the faith he once had, and the heart he buried with it. Luckily for the world, one half is stronger than the other.   
  
Perhaps miracles last as long as we need them to.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Perhaps miracles are only the beginning.  
  
"Are you out of your mind?!" screams Hidaka Ken, after Aiko's explanation of Farfarello's sudden arrival into their home - and their lives. "That man is insane! He tortures people, mutilates clergyman, and cuts *himself* up out of some sick pleasure! How can you trust him?!"  
  
Upon Farfie's entrance, everyone had taken a major double-take to be sure they were actually seeing what their eyes said they were. Of course, the lovely ladies of Fleusternd took it in stride, and though the site of the frightening Irishman unsettles them a little, they didn't object. Weiss, on the other hand, is far from taking this lightly. Sure, they have vowed to help Fleusternd bring Schwartz back into the light - knowing Farfarello is basically the main target - but they certainly didn't believe they would actually succeed. Which is probably why they refuse believe Aiko has.  
  
"Nagi I can understand." Omi puts in, very happy to be seated in the chair furthest from the troubling albino. "But...Farfarello...he's just a...a -"  
  
"A what?" demands Aiko sternly, though still smiling as broadly as ever. "A killer? Condemning him for *that* is rather hypocritical of you, ne?"  
  
Simply put, Omi shuts up. They all do. How can they possibly refute her explanation, despite the validity in their concerns? Nevertheless, Aiko can't really blame them for having doubts; fear is powerful, and faith is never easy to acquire.  
  
The entire group is spread out around the living room, though Farfarello is staying close to Aiko with a look that suggests he is still ready to run for it, and Ran is hovering near the landing - set apart from the others completely.  
  
Content with the momentary silence she has stirred within the others, Aiko once again takes control of the room. "Well, with no need for introductions or formalities, why don't we just forget today's unpleasantness and work out who will be sleeping where tonight? It is far too late to do much of anything else."  
  
(How can she be so calm...?) Omi wonders nervously, feeling very awkward in the presence of someone so recently a hated enemy. (What if he was the one who blew up the shop? Ken-kun was almost killed...)  
  
"I think it will be easier for everyone if Jei stays with me." Aiko suggests, surveying the others thoughtfully as she continues, and purposely not giving them long enough to grab at any chances for new arguments. "Siberian, you are already settled in Nori's room, so you and Balinese can sleep there. Nori, you will move into Hiromi's room. Then Nagi, Nanami, and Bombay will stay with Amaya. That way, Abyssinian, you and your sister can have the guest room to yourselves."  
  
Ran lifts his head uncomfortably at his assignment, making a meager gesture over the entirety of the room for Aiko to pick up on a slight discrepancy she hasn't noticed. "I sent Aya away, remember?" he states softly, his voice still betraying his feelings of guilt for having been caught eavesdropping before, despite his original intentions. "Birman and Manx took her with Momoe and Sakura to Villa White for the time being, so we won't be seeing any of them for quite awhile."  
  
"Ah, yes, I forgot. Be that as it may, the rest of us will make do with how I have laid things out, so you will just have to survive the night by yourself."  
  
Since no one is in much of a mood to protest the arrangements handed them, everyone gradual gets up and begins heading for their rooms. It is as if the day is refusing to end, and they all dearly crave a good night's rest, even if many of them will have disturbing nightmares knowing a madman is sleeping nearby.  
  
As usual, Ran is the only one who lingers after the others have retired, and Aiko kindly tells Farfarello to go make himself comfortable in her room while she ties up a few loose ends with her twin. The albino obediently heads for the door she points out, but hesitates in taking each step, fighting with every breath inhaled to retain control of his jumbled mind, still clinging to a way of life the child in him is struggling to forget. An hour does not change someone, after all, it can only set the wheels in motion.  
  
"We keep parting ways like this, Abyssinian." Aiko begins with a melancholy smile, eyeing her mirror image as he walks up to her slowly. "What thought will you leave me with tonight, I wonder? Do you also think I am being a fool? You of all people shouldn't, since you witnessed what happened tonight first hand."  
  
Ran flinches in reflex to her statement, even though her tone holds nothing even remotely similar to the malice she had briefly held downstairs. "You are right, of course. I shouldn't doubt you." the serious, young man answers. "But that doesn't mean I'm not still worried. Are you certain he isn't a threat? That man is more unstable than any member of Schwartz. Naoe is only a boy, but Farfarello is a vicious, cold-blooded killer - even if it is hypocritical of me to call him that. I don't like the thought of you being alone with him."  
  
Fire flashes in Aiko's intense pupils, and she takes a step closer to Ran, bringing them nearly nose to nose. Every bit of determination in him teeters on the edge of breaking under the force of her stare.   
  
The two leaders seem forever in friction with one another, in just the same way a misguided soul fights to change their reflection when the only thing that really changes is themselves.  
  
"I am well aware we have rushed into this, Abyssinian." Aiko speaks, with the semblance of tongues of fire on her lips. "However, I am prepared. It is you who suffer from being pulled into something you were not expecting to face. I know we are asking a lot of you, and under unfortunate circumstances things are moving faster than I anticipated. I am afraid I must help both Nagi and Jei find their places in life, so time helping *you* will once again be cut short."  
  
"Time helping me...?"  
  
Aiko takes a humored step back, looking Ran over with a teasing smile. "What, you think you have changed in the space of a heartbeat, as if you *don't* have the weight of countless deaths on your shoulders? Ha! Your intention may be purer, but you need help just as much as Schwartz, and *that* is what my mission is about." She instantly shifts back into her more pleasant, kinder state, looking into Ran's uncomprehending eyes sympathetically. "Knowing all this, I also understand that Jei cannot change overnight, either. I am not afraid, though. He wants to be himself again, and that is enough. Faith is enough. You would do well to remember that, Abyssinian." Meaningful pause. "Perhaps, you also need to reassert your relationship with God. I think He misses you..."   
  
Turning briskly on her heals, Aiko withdraws from Ran on these words, leaving him - mouth wide open in overwhelming emotions - to think about what she has told him, and what she believes. No one ever said life was easy, as any intelligent person knows, and things can always get more complicated.  
  
Therefore...they usually do.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Usually, he would know what to do.  
  
But right now he has no idea. In fact, Farfarello cannot remember a time in his life - since that unforgettable, childhood moment of angered passion - when he felt so utterly lost.  
  
Aiko spent a long time, hours into the depths of night, merely talking with him while she laid in bed, and he laid on the floor below her. When the inspiring red-head first joined him in the room, she had demanded *he* take the bed, actually, but he haphazardly refused. Comfort has never really been something he enjoys; the floor looked far more appealing. Understanding, Aiko had given in, but tossed him a pillow and blanket anyway.  
  
Tired eyes eventually overtook the exhausted, young woman, however, leaving Farfarello to lie awake amidst deafening silence, while feeling misplaced and alone in the strange darkness. His surroundings, his state of mind, everything feels as if...  
  
(...I shouldn't be here...) he thinks sorrowfully, staring up at the ceiling. (But...how can I hold onto vengeance...when *she* was able to let go...? I...I wish I didn't have to feel like this...pained...when I have lived without it...lived with the joy of hurting others...in hurting *You*...I should...still hate You...but...I feel so confused...)  
  
Troubled and aching, Farfarello turns his head to look up at Aiko from his place on the floor. He can make out her profile, so serene and beautifully pale in the moonlight shining in through the window, and her hand is dangling off the side of the mattress. Such a small hand - delicate fingers - and yet what a powerful weapon they can become when filled with the light of a flame burning above her palm.  
  
With his eye fixed on those still, tempting digits, the Irishman absently reaches a hand up to kiss her fingertips with his own. She doesn't stir, not in the slightest, but he abruptly pulls away the moment their skin touches. Every pleasure he takes, every good-natured thought he tries to have, is injected with the shadows of guilt tailing him so relentlessly. Which is exactly why he cannot sleep.   
  
When a person is fighting a difficult, inner battle of demons and guardian angels, nightmares and haunting dreams surely lie ahead. Farfarello had long ago believed his guardian angel was dead, covered in acid and blood from his many victims, but now he believes he was mistaken.   
  
If someone else had been able to keep faith after committing the same horrifying crimes as he, then perhaps it was not God who abandoned him, but he who abandoned God. Despite these revelations, Farfie is still afraid to fall asleep. Even more so...  
  
...he is afraid to face tomorrow.  
  
  
*****A/N***** Alright!! Two down, and two to go. Schwartz wise, anyway. I bet you weren't expecting Aiko's dark secret, were ya? I'm just full of surprises! Keep REVIEWING peoples. Love ya! 


	13. 13

*****13*****  
  
  
Are we defined by our pasts?  
  
Who we are could be based on where we come from, but is that accurate? Are we doomed to walk whatever paths are laid before us from the moment we take our first step to the moment we take our last? I certainly hope not, because if I am stuck in the rut I have dug for myself, there is no where to go but down.  
  
That goes for everyone, by the way.  
  
Let's say our pasts are inconsequential then, shall we? It's easier. Still, childhood and demons long forgotten are still crucial in defining what makes us who we are, even if we have surpassed them.   
  
They say you can never outrun your past, but why would anyone want to? Isn't it also said that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger? If that is the case, we should all be of Herculean stature by now. Most of us aren't, though. Maybe the truth lies in how well we face and embrace what lies behind us.   
  
Damn.  
  
Owning up is hard, I know. But believe me, it is so worth it. Acceptance is even more straining, but all the more valuable once you have achieved it. The real obstacle is in beginning. Once the wheel starts spinning, everything can easily fall into place, but making the effort to set things in motion can wear you down to the core.  
  
If only we could have futures without having pasts...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Clink. Clink. Sigh.  
  
A spoon hits the edges of a small coffee cup while stirring its muddy-brown contents. The swirl of liquid is intertwined with white melding into the rest - coffee, black, cream, no sugar. Sweetened or not, he knows it will still taste terrible.  
  
Tsukiyono Omi has a reputation for being a morning person. Lucky him. The truth is, he is only able to appear bright-eyed and alert because he feels a need to. Most mornings in the Weiss household are after missions. No one wants to get up after a night of deadly justice wrought upon the guilty, but each one of them always does - eventually - and even if they never say so, they all appreciate seeing Omi's smiling face waiting for them at the breakfast table. Being the youngest, it makes them feel hope for the future knowing he is able to retain his innocence - though somewhat stained.  
  
Therefore, withstanding his hatred for coffee, the young blonde forces the putrid gunk down his throat, soaking in the caffeine for the sake of his friends.   
  
The night before had not been a mission, however, merely the end to a very difficult day, and even though it had been spent across the street from their true home, Omi was still first to arise, waiting patiently for his teammates, the intriguing women of Fluesternd, two former members of Schwartz, and...Toto.  
  
(I thought for sure I'd wake up this morning...and realize I had dreamed it all.) he ponders curiously, taking a sip of his morning wake-up call with a wrinkled nose. (But...we're really doing it. We're making a difference without shedding a drop of blood. I always knew it was possible...it had to be...)  
  
He leans back in his chair at the kitchen table, fingering the handle of his cup. The sky is dark outside the window, not because the sun has yet to rise, but because of the overcast clouds blocking its rays. For some unexplainable reason, Omi finds odd comfort in the smell of coming rain.  
  
(What's going to happen now...? I thought I would be afraid, but I'm actually kind of excited. We're half done with the mission and we've barely fought at all...) His eyes narrow at nothing suddenly, and he feels an unwanted dread creep up his spine. (Farfarello...I still don't trust him. After what he did...Ouka...but I guess...all the people we've killed had families, too. I just don't think one night will be enough to change him...)  
  
"Nice pajamas, bishounen."  
  
Startled, Omi jerks up out of his reverie, spilling a few drops of hot liquid on his hand in the process. Youji is now standing in the doorway.  
  
The younger blonde grimaces at his burned hand, but finds himself drawn to look down at his tattered, old T-shirt and worn-in boxers. "Baka. I'd say the same to you, Youji-kun, but I bet you're not even wearing anything under that."  
  
Youji gives a sly smirk, tugging at the corners of his robe, while making his way to the fridge to scrounge for breakfast. "Be happy I decided to put this thing on at all." he chides. "If we weren't guests of such lovely ladies, I wouldn't have bothered."  
  
"Believe me, I have enough horrifying memories to remind me of that." Omi pipes in, attempting to hide his humored expression. "What got you out of bed so early anyway, Youji-kun? Restless without a warm body to keep you company?"  
  
Knocking the fridge closed with his hips, and balancing a jug of milk, a block of cheese, and a carton of eggs in his hands, Youji lifts an eyebrow indignantly. Before answering, nevertheless, he flips on the stove, looking as if he might actually be preparing to make something for the whole gang.  
  
After finding the appropriate pans and utensils, he turns back to Omi. "Ken snores." he states simply, and promptly goes back to cooking.  
  
"I do not!"  
  
This boisterous declaration clearly signals Hidaka Ken's entrance into the kitchen as well, holding his hands on his hips, and wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants covered with holes and tears. Youji grins to himself, but doesn't reply, and Omi only chuckles.  
  
One by one, everyone exhaustedly begins filtering into the room, and they realize, though the space is larger than "Kitty in the House's" kitchen, it is rather cramped for 11 people.  
  
Ran, Aiko, and Nori appear already dressed upon their arrivals; Hiromi and Amaya enter with wild messes of hair, still in their bed-clothes; Nagi and Toto look like two crumpled dolls waiting to be tended to; and Farfarello - last to slip into the kitchen - is wearing his black pants, but with a button-down, white shirt instead of his long vest, and is without his usual accessories - save the eye-patch and earrings.  
  
With Youji toiling over edibles for everyone, the majority dig in as soon as the food is dished out, only a few deciding to stick to their own forms of breakfast - nothing or coffee.  
  
"How did everyone sleep? I know it can be awkward staying in a strange bed." Aiko greets warmly, since most of them are being overtly quiet. No one gives much of a reply, but the red-head surveys them with interest, sitting down at the crammed kitchen table. "Don't be so shy. We are all friends here."  
  
For some strange reason, everyone's eyes seem to avoid one another's. Ran, Ken, Youji, and Nori remain standing while gathered in the tight space, not wanting to infringe upon the close quarters of all who are seated at the table.   
  
Casting a serious glance at Farfarello, Nori remarks. "I think we had rather get right down to business, instead of bothering with small talk." Her words come out forceful and direct, though somewhat kinder than they might have been not too long ago. "Tell us what you know of Schwartz' plans, Farfarello. *If* you are truly on our side."  
  
"Jei." Aiko corrects, displaying borderline malice. "Call him Jei. It is his real name, after all."  
  
Despite Aiko's interruption, everyone has already turned their eyes onto the silent, misplaced albino, who is sitting very still, not eating a thing. His own gaze is quite far away, distant and unnerving. One has to admit, it is much easier to change the clothes than the man.  
  
Farfarello feels the many eyes on him, and darts his attention nervously about the room as he speaks. "I...don't know anything." comes his soft, hesitating voice. "Crawford only thinks of me as a tool...he doesn't say what we are leading to...only that it will be the end..."  
  
"He's telling the truth." Nagi puts in supportively, seated on Farfarello's right at the table. "Crawford never tells us what's going on. Schuldrich would know much more than we do."  
  
Some are satisfied with this response, while others cling to their suspicions. However, the heaviness in the air slowly begins to dissipate, and everyone gradually breaks into actual conversation, freeing themselves from thoughts of something they can easily deal with later.  
  
Farfarello, on the other hand, reverts back to silent watchfulness, looking longingly at the food, but unsure how to take advantage of it. Vigilantly taking note of this, Aiko grabs a few pieces of bread us they pop up from the toaster, tossing them onto a plate for him.  
  
"Toast, Jei?" she asks with a smile. "I bet you're hungry."  
  
Displaying blank features, he faces her, and nods while accepting the plate with a slightly shaky hand. Aiko seems content enough with this reaction, returning to her own breakfast eagerly.   
  
Never one to favor bland things - food or otherwise - Farfie looks over the table for what he might put on his toast, instinctively reaching for the butter knife in front of him.   
  
Abruptly, his eyes become transfixed on the curve of the blade, and his hand freezes with it just out of his reach. Farfarello's breath almost instantly quickens, his golden eye wide with fear and an impulsive, sickening desire.  
  
(...I can feel it...blood...running over my skin...taste it...imagine it spilling from the fools so close around me...) rambles his disturbed mind. (They are only pretending to trust me for *her* sake...they would never see it coming...I could slice through all of them so easily...) And yet, his hand does not move forward, but remains about an inch away from satisfying his voracious cravings. Farfarello's face twists in incomprehension. (Why...why can't I do it...they mean nothing to me...I don't belong here...*You* are still my enemy...Father of lies...Father...) A struggling tear streaks down his cheek, though no one seems to notice. (...who forsake who...could you still...love me...after all this time...? I...no! I want to destroy everything you have created! I - !)  
  
Just then, as Farfarello makes a desperate surge forward to take hold of the knife, a small, unbelievably strong hand grips his wrist before he can reach it. Nagi has come to the rescue.  
  
"Would you like something on your toast...Jei?" the young boy asks carefully, with stressed words and firmly locked eyes.  
  
Such a brave, unexpected act jolts Farfarello from his familiar lapse back into those dark times still close at hand, and the albino nods gratefully, sharply pulling back his hand as Nagi releases it.  
  
Smiling gently, the short brunette does the bizarrely difficult job of adding flavor to his former teammate's toast, handing the plate back, while placing the knife on his other side - safely out of reach.   
  
Everyone else was so caught up in their own discussions and eating frenzy, they didn't even notice something had been amiss. They didn't notice how close things had come to chaos simply because a butter knife triggered the lingering sociopath within Farfarello.  
  
Thank God for good friends.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Thank God for good intentions.  
  
Morning rapidly faded into afternoon - "Kitten's Cafe" enduring closed doors for a second day - while the members of such an oddly matched group worked out their future tactics. When they had microanalyzed every detail to death, hoping to find the best course of action, they still didn't have much of anything. So far, their "successes" have come out of coincidence and uncontrollable circumstances. How can they feasibly plan ahead?  
  
Deciding to investigate and learn all they can, they decided to wait things out and take what comes as it comes. Of course, sometimes the hardest thing is to wait.  
  
Evening is now fast approaching, and everyone is off in their own little groups with their own diverse tasks to complete. Omi, alone in the basement - which is eerily similar to how theirs...once was - has searched the Net from kilobyte to megabyte, and is technology-weary to the point of tears.  
  
(This is driving me insane! How can we prepare ourselves when we have no idea what to do next?!) the young blonde thinks furiously, slamming a fist haphazardly down upon the keyboard.  
  
He pushes his chair back and stands, straining his throbbing joints, and stretches his arms high above his head while sighing in frustration. "Maybe I should just call it a night."  
  
"Sounds like a good idea to me."  
  
This intrusion whirls Omi around to discover a short, young woman with intense green eyes, gazing at him from only a few feet away. He becomes a child in staring back at her, full of youthful bewilderment. "Amaya...I...errr...you scared me." mumbles the blue-eyed boy, caught off guard for the second time today.  
  
Amaya tosses back her long raven locks, wearing an expression like someone burdened with the weight of an unfortunate secret, and plops herself down in a cushy, over-stuffed chair. Omi - calmed but curious - joins her, sitting on the small loveseat nearby, and is slightly disturbed by the strain in her smile. She is clutching something tightly to her chest, and for once, seems at a loss for what to say next.  
  
"You didn't come down here just to brighten my boredom, did you?" Omi prompts softly, craning to see what she is holding so fiercely.  
  
Another toss of dark strands. "Iie...I...have something for you." replies Amaya's feathery voice, more timid than Omi has ever heard it. "I would have given this to you before, but I thought it would be better if we knew each other a little more, so you'd know it wasn't a trick or anything."  
  
"Wha...what is it...?"  
  
Cautiously, Amaya unclenches her hands and holds up the object in question. Omi looks it over carefully, and tilts his head - confused - once realizing what it is: a video tape. Awkwardly, the petite brunette thrusts her arm forward for him to take it. He accepts the offering warily, but peers with interest to read the label.  
  
(Presidential Office...tape 347...5th of May...)  
  
"I don't understand." Omi begins, faltering with his words. "What does this have to do with me?"  
  
Mournfully, Amaya casts him a weak smile, eyeing the tape in resolution. "That was taken from Takatori Reiji's personal office. You should recognize the date."  
  
(Recognize...? Then this was...!) Such unforeseen grief as Omi's heart leaps into his throat. (...the night...ojisan...)  
  
"It may be a little late." Amaya continues. "But you deserve to know the truth."  
  
Omi's cheeks flush with heated emotion, his hand clenching the tape intensely. "What truth?!" barks back his suddenly angry voice, rising in volume and misunderstanding. "I know what happened that night. How can you think I would want to see my...father...kill the only man who ever truly *was* like a father to me...? Why would you want to show me that!?!"  
  
The tape is thrown harshly at Amaya's feet, and Omi turns away from her, burying himself in the cushions of the loveseat. There is a rippling wave of silence, clinging to the remaining echo of plastic hitting a wooden floor.   
  
Amaya, refusing to be shaken from her steadfast determination, rises elegantly from her chair, though inside she is aching knowing that her "gift" is causing someone she admires so much pain. But, she does not pick up the video tape. It is left right where it is for Omi to accept when he is ready. For now, what he needs is the comfort of solitude.  
  
Before leaving, the pixie brunette implores gently. "Watch the tape, Bombay-kitten. I know it will be hard, but trust me, there's something on it you have to know. I'd tell you what it is, but it wouldn't mean squat if you didn't hear it for yourself."  
  
These final words are all she leaves him with - other than that dreaded tape - and he soon finds himself alone. Omi almost immediately feels ashamed for snapping at her so foolishly with such little thought, but there is a fearful abhorrence in the idea of watching that tape. In watching his family kill one another. Especially, after he had killed his own brothers...not long ago.  
  
(What secrets could be left...?) he wonders, turning back to stare down at the tape on the floor. (Persia would have told me if it was something important...right? Unless it was something he couldn't tell me. Something he thought...I would be better off not knowing...)  
  
Naturally, such a possibility is more than enough incentive to send Omi reaching for the frightful answer to his gnawing questions. Truth is one of the most desirable things in life, after all.   
  
Meaning, it is also one of the most painful.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
What is most painful can sometimes hold the most meaning.  
  
The walls shake slightly, sighing from the pressure thrown against them by the wailing wind. Inside *this* room, however, outer cold is shunned defiantly, and everyone is toasty warm, snuggling under the covers. They aren't quite ready to go to bed - the last room still awake - because they are waiting for their missing roommate to surface from wherever he has been hiding most of the evening.  
  
Amaya and Toto are sitting up in their shared bed, conversing with Nagi from his sleeping bag. The person they are waiting for is Omi, to be exact, who will also be taking the floor - even if the girls would prefer slightly altered sleeping arrangements.   
  
The youngest member of Weiss chose to close himself off in the basement since early evening, and the only person who seems to know what he is up to isn't saying a word.  
  
"Amaya-chan, I'm so sleepy. When is Omiitchi coming to bed?" Toto whines, falling back against her pillow.  
  
Thoughtfully, the brunette smiles. "When he's ready."  
  
The late hour combined with the finality of Amaya's tone, leaves the others in silence, watching the door expectantly. After a few lengthy minutes, it finally creaks open, and a short blonde with bright, blue eyes slips inside, holding a video tape in one hand, and displaying wet cheeks stained red from dried tears.  
  
No one says a word as Omi enters, quickly hiding behind the closet door to change for the night, but their eyes follow his movements as soon as he is finished, making way to his spot on the floor next to Nagi. He does not climb inside his sleeping bag, however, nor does he even sit down, but stands there in front of the bed, slowing raising his eyes to look at Amaya, who is watching him more intently than either of the others.   
  
The tape is still in his hand.  
  
Gradually, Omi walks over to the bed-side table and sets the tape down, but now that he is closer to where Amaya is sitting up amidst the covers, he can no longer remain composed. Diving down like a child into a pile of toys, he suddenly wraps his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly.   
  
While Toto and Nagi watch on curiously, Amaya merely laughs, embracing him in return. "I guess you had a change of heart, ne? I'm so glad, Bombay-kitten." she purrs beside his ear.  
  
Laughing himself, Omi pulls away, blushing profusely. "I...don't know how to repay you..." breathes his drunkenly happy voice. "If you hadn't given me that tape, I never would have known."  
  
"Known what?" Toto prompts, hating to be held in suspense.  
  
Nagi perks up avidly as well. "Was something important on that tape?"  
  
Regaining himself, Omi crosses back to sit down on top of his sleeping bag, beaming out at all of them. "It showed me how...I still can't believe it..." he begins, unable to hold the corners of his mouth at bay. "Nagi, you know Takatori Reiji was my father, ne? You know I was really Takatori Mamoru once?"  
  
Nagi nods. He hadn't really given it much thought before.  
  
"Well...the tape...it...he...he wasn't my father." the blonde goes on, hardly believing it himself. "*Persia* was all along. Takatori Shuuichi. He was my real father. I was right there with him when he...died...but he couldn't bring himself to tell me. He had just found out himself, and...I guess he felt guilty. In his mind, it was worse to raise a son to be a killer than a nephew to be one..."  
  
As saddening as these many revelations have been, Omi is grinning from ear to ear, overwhelmed by a feeling of peace, a sense of belonging he has always been deprived of. Now, he knows the truth; he didn't end up like his brothers, and never would have, because he was raised by a different father. His real father.  
  
"It's the least I could do for you." Amaya states gently, smiling even more brilliantly than Omi. "I know how hard it can be, feeling like you don't know who you are, even amongst your own family."  
  
All three of her companions turn to the dark-haired, young woman inquiringly at this. Truthfully, can't every single one of them say the same? And yet...  
  
"I would never have imagined *you* could understand something like that." Nagi comments honestly. "You always seem so...light-hearted."  
  
Alhough so far she has been listening while laying comfortably upon her pillow, Toto suddenly springs up into a sitting position. "So do I!" she reprimands her counterpart. "And you know what Papa did to me...but...I still smile and try to be happy."   
  
No one could ever dispute that.  
  
"Amaya..." Omi presses on, his smile fading as he looks up at her imploringly from his place on the floor. "All of us know on some level what each other has been through, except...for you. Maybe it's not my place to ask, but all Aiko ever told us was that you were somehow connected to Kritiker. So, what...what's *your* story?"  
  
Absolute quiet. The lovely brunette's smile falters, and her eyes seem to unfocus, as if contemplating how to explain what her companions so eagerly wish to know. Nevertheless, with subtle difficulty she forces her smile to return, though it isn't quite the same expression. "I am Yawarakai Amaya, remember? If you think about it, that name should sound familiar."  
  
Almost instantly, Omi's face lights up in comprehension. "Yawarakai! Of course, the Yawarakai Institute that came up with all those technological advances, even the computer I us!" he exclaims. "*You* are their heir? I should have figured it out right away, especially with your birth mark."  
  
"Birth mark?" Toto repeats.  
  
"This." explains Amaya, coiling her silver lock of hair around a delicate finger. "My father had the same thing."  
  
"I remember the Yawarakai family." Nagi puts in, trying to recall. "They were murdered during a random robbery at their estate. I didn't think anyone survived."  
  
Once again, Amaya's features flicker out of their usual light and go blank, agonizing over the memories she has allowing to resurface. "I wasn't home. One in a million chance, and I wasn't even there." she whispers, bravely putting on a strong resolve. "The reason no one knows I'm still alive is because of Kritiker. Daddy was really involved with them - money backing, new devices - and after he and Mom were...killed...they took care of me. I've been raking in all the dough from the factories to keep helping Kritiker out, and in return they make sure I'm safe. Or did, at least, before the organization collapsed. I think it's what my parents would have wanted, and it did lead me to Fluesternd - one of the best things that ever happened to me. Guess I'm pretty lucky..."  
  
Fade out. Silence again. How much these diverse young men and women have in common - pain, suffering, loss, and the sting of not belonging...anywhere.  
  
"I'm so sleepy..." Toto mumbles, giving a great, exhausted yawn, and interrupting the quiet like the unconquerable child that she is.  
  
The others chuckle lightly, giving in to their own weariness by offering a few muffled goodnights and reluctantly laying down inside their beds. As is to be expected, much is on their minds, with fresh alliances forming in their hearts, but there are no more words to speak. Silence is enough, as if their souls are capable of communing with one another even from inside their dreams.  
  
And...this is only the beginning.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
...only the unbearable, excruciating beginning.  
  
Pain, suffering, deterioration of the human spirit - these are the things he lives for. These things he thrives off of like a drug addict in desperate need for another fix. His weapon is not something to be touched or seen, however, but something that reaches inside you, tears apart your very soul - like some rabid dog - and throws you back to pick up the pieces. That is, if you are still alive.  
  
Schuldrich. The guilty one. That is the essence of who he is. (Here kitty kitties...and the little brat and psycho, too...heh...I'm coming for you...)  
  
How quickly darkness falls, even in Spring when the days begin to get longer and the nights grow shorter and shorter. No stars tonight, though, no moon. Only overcast clouds and cold.  
  
Perched by the back door to "Kitten's Cafe" - the door leading up directly to the apartment - Schuldrich leans casually, completely at ease. He is waiting - watching and waiting - for the last few lights inside to turn off, signaling the descent of sleep.  
  
(I got off pretty easy...) he considers lazily, pulling out a cigarette to keep him company and to warm his numbed skin. (...easier than they'll got off, anyway. Funny, I thought Brad was about to pop a vein back there...)  
  
"He...escaped...?" the American had practically choked out, shaking from the rage built up inside his sturdy frame. "You let Farfarello escape!?!"  
  
Clearly, Brad hadn't taken Schu's incident very well.  
  
"Hey, he caught me by surprise with that damn straitjacket around the throat. What was I supposed to do? Play dead? He's not that stupid."  
  
Needless to say, the argument continued a little longer than Schu would have liked, but in the end, Brad calmed down, steadied his shaken nerves, and...screamed out orders the German wouldn't dare turn down.  
  
"I will not wait around for what they are planning next. I want her back now!" he had shouted, and then stalked up very close to Schuldrich, looking right through him as his glasses glinted in the light. "Go back to their headquarters. If both of those traitors are there, leave them there, but I want you to make a more lasting impact on the others. I don't care what you do to them, but I want them all to pay! Just be sure you bring the girl back - unharmed. If you don't, you had better be half-dead when you drag yourself through that door..."   
  
Now, it's nightfall, it's cold, and Schuldrich is waiting outside the shop with the perfect plan of revenge forming in his lovely head. If he was outside the flowershop - with it still intact - every blooming plant within would have wilted catching wind of his evil thoughts.  
  
Taking a characteristically sensual drag on his slim cigarette, Schuldrich tilts his head up at the windows above, sneering cruelly at the lights going out one by one. (Sleep tight...little kitties...I'll be paying you a visit very soon...)  
  
And all around him, the wind howled.  
  
  
*****A/N***** Truthfully, one of my least fave chapters, but a very important one. I had to give Omi and Amaya their moments to shine, I did really like Farf's moment of relapse, and the setup for Schu better have you aching for more, cause the next chapter is oodles of fun. Keep those REVIEWS coming! 


	14. 14

*****14*****  
  
  
What makes us who we are?  
  
Are we what others see, what we see of ourselves, or what remains unseen? That's a pretty tough question. One many people would disagree on the answer of. Some of us define ourselves solely by what others say, or in how others act towards us. Likewise, many people see themselves only in their own light, refusing to be labelled by anyone else.  
  
So what about the rest? What about the secrets no one knows - secrets we don't know? The deep desires and fears living within each of us. What we dream about, what we aspire to, or even what we run from. It is like a withering blossom, opening just long enough to thrill us, but dying before we can truly define its beauty.   
  
Such helpless creatures we are. What if someone else was suddenly in control of our subcounscious? The part of ourselves we have no true control over. What would become of us? Would our nightmares take new shape, turning real before our very eyes to haunt us through life?   
  
I bet you wouldn't want to find out.  
  
It is always better to feel in control, even if it doesn't mean anything, even if it is all just in our heads. Humans like to feel safe. Humans like to feel powerful. Most of the time, however, we are neither. We're just human. Subject to every terror within our own minds, and fragile enough to break if the strain becomes more than we can stand.   
  
I guess that is why we have friends. Not only do they help us characterize who we are, but they are there to help protect us from ourselves. We need them; they need us.   
  
Of course, they might just be an illusion, too...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Nagi!!!" Toto screams in her sleep, thrashing wildly on the bed.   
  
It would be much more of a disruption if the girl next to her wasn't just as caught up in the intensity of her own nightmare. Even on the floor, a young boy with blonde hair is curling into the tightest ball beneath his covers, calling out to friends for help, though they do not seem to be answering. The entire room is a ward of fitful dreaming. For all, that is, except one.  
  
Awakened by the cries of someone very dear to him, Naoe Nagi jolts up in his sleeping bag on the floor. Toto is calling his name. Worriedly, the young boy rushes to the bed, tentative and unsure. Why is the love of his life calling for him like that? Why is she struggling so desperately beneath the covers?  
  
"T...Toto...." he whispers, lightly grasping her shoulders to shake her awake. She does not stir. "Toto, wake up. You're having a bad dream." he tries again, hating how panicked she sounds, and how it all seems directed at him. Once again, however, the girl does not rise, but continues dreaming, as if nothing can free her from the chains of an unpleasant night's sleep.  
  
At a loss, Nagi looks to the others - Amaya next to Toto in the Bed, and Omi on the floor in another sleeping bag - realizing that they, too, appear to be having nightmares they cannot escape.  
  
"They're all stuck in their dreams..." he voices aloud, backing towards the door. "What is going on?"  
  
Having lived with supernatural companions and daily interruptions of weirdness for years now, Nagi's mind jumps promptly to the conclusion that some form of sorcery must be involved, and someone has to do something about it. Filling with determination, the brunette bolts out into the hallway, intending to seek help from the closest allies available. Unfortunately, the first room he comes to is Hiromi's, and even without opening the door, he can easily pick up on the sounds of disturbed slumber from its inhabitants.   
  
They are having nightmares, too.   
  
On the brink of hysteria, he rushes for the next room where Youji and Ken are asleep. Their door has been left open for the night, but a quick glance inside reveals the same thing all over again: tossing and turning with mumbled cries of anguish. Something is definitely going on here, and it isn't a simple wave of bad dreams.  
  
Nonetheless, Nagi refuses to give up, hurrying on down the hall. As with the first room, the next door is closed, but when he places his ear against it to listen for noise...there isn't a single sound coming from the other side. Clinging to this small bit of hope, Nagi throws the door open. Asleep on the bed is Aiko, clearly dreaming from the rapid movement of her eyes, but apparently in no dire stress, for now, and Farfarello is lying flat on the floor, with nothing but a thin blanket and pillow, sleeping stone still as always, which makes him the young brunette's best bet for awakening.  
  
"Farfie..." Nagi whispers, creeping closer inside the room, and reaching to shake the albino as he had shaken Toto before. "Wake up, Farfarello...please...Farfarello...Farfa - ah!"  
  
Seconds before Nagi can take hold of his comrade's shoulders, Farfarello suddenly awakes on his own, instinctively shooting up and grasping Nagi's wrists painfully, as if the boy is some stealthy enemy about to attack. Obviously, this scares Nagi out of his shorts. Well, not literally.  
  
"Farfie...it's ok...it's just me..." Nagi rants feverishly, breathing hard, and tensing under Farfarello's grip. "It's Nagi...please let go...you...you're hurting me..."  
  
Shaking himself out of "automatic mode", Farfarello focuses in on Nagi's face, and instantly releases the boy once recognizing what he is doing. "I...I'm so sorry, Nagi. I didn't realize it was you."  
  
"Don't worry about it, Far...Jei." the younger boy smiles weakly, caught slightly off guard by his friend's gentle tone. "I'm fine, and I know you didn't mean to. It's probably a good thing you're so alert tonight, anyway. There is something very strange going on."  
  
This information catches Farfarello's attention immediately, even as he is still waving off the last remnants of sleep, and he looks at Nagi deadly serious. "What is it?"  
  
"I'm not exactly sure, but everyone - except us, I guess - is having horrible nightmares, and I can't wake them up. I know it might seem silly, but I don't think this is just a coincidence. There is something dark behind what is going on. I can feel it."  
  
Farfarello distances his gaze, absorbing the details warily. "You don't think it's..."  
  
"...I don't know..."  
  
"What should we do?"  
  
Thinking things over carefully, Nagi creases his brow, darting his eyes about the room as if some random object might offer him an idea for what can be done to help everyone. Miraculously, it does.   
  
When the young brunette's eyes fall upon Aiko asleep in the bed, they instantly widen, filled with urgency and hope. "We'll wake Aiko." he proposes, gracing a natural authority in his voice. "If anyone can figure this out, I'm sure she can. Besides, even if she is already dreaming, she doesn't seem to be in too deep yet, so we should be able to get her up. What do you think?"  
  
"I guess there isn't much else we *can* do if the others are trapped." Farfie replies, immediately standing to make his way to the bed. "But...what if we can't get Aiko to wake up either?"  
  
This isn't what Nagi wanted to hear. "Let's just hope we can."  
  
Surrounding her on either side, the two ex-members of Schwartz lean in close to the slumbering red-head, pleading with silent prayers that these nightmares are not being caused by what - by who - they believe it to be.  
  
"Aiko-chan...."  
  
"Aiko...we need you to wake up..."  
  
"...Aiko..."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"...Aiko..."  
  
Caught within a dream only just beginning, Rosuto Aiko takes notice of strange voices whispering in the air, as if they are coming from all around her.  
  
"...Aiko-chan...please wake up..."  
  
"We need you...Aiko..."  
  
The distant red-head stirs slightly within her slumber, scoping out the fading surroundings of her dream, and beginning to see them for what they truly are. (Is...someone calling me...?)  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Is something guiding me...?"  
  
In truth, the night has barely begun, only midnight, and outside a full moon shimmers like the lily-white petals from some delicate flower, casting a soothing light on the city below. Admiring this breathtaking beauty, Fujimiya Ran leans against his window, allowing the cool breeze to swirl around him as it filters inside. He shivers, wearing only a thin pair of black, cotton pants - his usual bedclothes - oblivious to the cold with so much on his mind.  
  
"Is something guiding me...leading me through this...?" he whispers, tracing his hand along the window frame. "There has to be something...I could never have done all this...believed it was possible...if something wasn't...somehow...I...I'm not strong enough to change on my own." This last thought quiets him abruptly, forcing him to play it over in his mind and realize how foolish he sounds. "But I haven't been doing this alone, have I? Everyone...we have all done this together...especially...Korat. What is it about her? So powerful...so...urrrg, what am I doing?! Talking to myself when I should be getting some sleep, that's what. Enough of this."  
  
Ashamed at getting so caught up in reverie, the fatigued red-head turns instantly for bed, throwing back the covers. Before he can exhaustedly fall onto the mattress, however, a curious noise perks his attention back near the window. He looks over his shoulder suspiciously, but upon finding nothing other than the billowing curtains, concludes it must have come from outside, and shuffles over to latch the window shut.  
  
Oddly enough, with his back now to the rest of the room, he again hears the sound, coming this time from somewhere near the door. Ran wastes no time in whirling around, darting his amethyst eyes over the entirety of the room to catch whatever culprit is trying to drive him crazy tonight.   
  
Nothing.  
  
Walking briskly across the floor, he reaches for the door and opens it, peering out into the hallway in case the strange sound might have come from there, but finds it just as empty as his room. Ran feels slightly unnerved, but after considering how tired he really is, decides it is probably just his imagination, and closes the door, heading back to the comfort of his bed.  
  
Once again, before he can reach it, a noise from behind stops him in his tracks. Luckily, this time he knows what the sound is. Someone is knocking on his door.  
  
Releasing a heavy sigh, Ran turns on his heels again, grabs for the doorknob, opens it wide, and finds himself face to face with...himself. Or, at least, someone who eerily resembles him.  
  
"Kombanwa, Abyssinian." Rosuto Aiko smiles, catching her near-twin by complete surprise.   
  
Imagine her showing up at his door past midnight, her crimson hair wild and loose down her back, wearing a very flattering, spaghetti-strap nightgown that barely reaches mid-thigh. You can imagine his reaction.  
  
"Ko...Korat...wh...what is it?"  
  
Aiko laughs softly, tilting her head to the side. "Sounds like the kitty's got your tongue again, ne?" she teases. "You must think this very inappropriate of me, dropping by so late. It's just that...I couldn't sleep. Bad dreams. I saw you peek out into the hallway a moment ago, just before you went back inside, and thought since you were up, too, maybe we could keep each other company. Hn...I can see now that I was mistaken. I'll leave you to rest."  
  
Motioning to leave, Aiko takes a step away from the door, but barely even finishes it before being summoned back.  
  
"Wait!" Ran calls, taking hold of her arm gently. "You...don't have to go. I've been having trouble getting to bed myself tonight. You can...stay...if you like."  
  
Tossing her companion a rather coy smirk, Aiko slips silently passed him into the room, waiting for him to close the door behind them. The moment she hears that familiar click, however, the intriguing young woman turns back, and before Ran can even begin to move away from the door, pushes him roughly up against it, swooping in for a deep and unexpected kiss.  
  
Ran's eyes instantly widen, instinctively pushing her away. "Wh...What are you doing?"  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" she replies, leaning in again.  
  
Desperately, Ran holds her at bay. "But...why? We...we shouldn't." he states simply, sidestepping passed her, deeper into the room.  
  
"Why? Because I want to." Aiko replies, walking up behind him now that he is turned away. "As for the shouldn't part? I don't see why not." She slinks her arms around his waist, turning him to face her as she steps in closer. Ran stands rigid, unable to move. "I can see it in your eyes. You feel just as I do. Stop denying what is written so plainly on that lovely, bishounen face."  
  
As before, Aiko pulls Ran in for a kiss burning with passion, but this time he does not push her away. His body feels limp and warm straight down to his toes, and he succumbs to the sensation, allowing his eyes to close as he kisses her in return.  
  
Noting the gentle pressure of her hands on his lower back, Ran slips his arms around Aiko's waist as well, feeling an odd response to their embrace deep within his body.   
  
It feels wonderful.  
  
Gradually, he begins to realize that Aiko is moving them backwards towards the bed, and is overcome with a new sense of fear and confusion as the backs of his legs finally hit it, and she releases from the kiss, pushing him down onto the mattress.  
  
"...Korat..."  
  
"Shhh..." she silences, placing a finger to his moistened lips. "Don't talk. Just feel."  
  
With a playful grin, Aiko lowers herself onto Ran, straddling his waist, and dives in again to claim those soft lips with her own. Somewhere deep inside, Ran hears a voice telling him to stop her, but he can't. She tastes too sweet, feels too right. At least, that is what he believes, until she unexpectedly attempts to take things even further.   
  
Aiko's hands have been slowly trailing down his chest, now toying near the waist of his pants, and soon begin slipping under the elastic, reaching down his thigh...  
  
"Stop!" Ran cries, breaking from their kiss, and grabbing hold of her eager, searching hands. "We...can't do this. It's wrong. It...feels wrong."  
  
"It was about to feel a whole lot better if you hadn't stopped me." Aiko offers in reply, licking her lips. "Why are you denying yourself? Just relax."  
  
Obediently, Aiko's hands return to the contours of Ran's bare chest, and she bends down once more, kissing the side of his neck now and up to his delicate ears. He trembles. Never before has he felt anything like this, experienced what so many others his age would have known years before. But having been such a reserved young man in his school days, spending most of his time with his family, his sister especially, Ran had never had a serious girl-friend. He had barely had any at all, and they never lasted very long. Even his first kiss years ago meant so little to him at the time, and was one of the only times he had been kissed at all. Until now.  
  
(...uhh...I...should stop her...) he thinks vaguely, loosing himself to the caress of her lips and small, cooling hands on his skin. (...this isn't...right...but I...uhh...ahhh...)  
  
"That's it..." Aiko purrs beside his ear. "...I knew you would give in to me...Fujimiya..."  
  
(...Fujimiya...?)  
  
Hold your breath.  
  
Suddenly, the weight of Aiko on top of Ran increases, and her once gentle hands grasp his shoulders like vices, pinning him down, while the low rumble of laughter begins to echo in Ran's ears - in his mind - in a very, VERY, unwelcome, nasal voice.  
  
As Ran holds positively breathless and deadly still, laden with terror, a most surprising figure is revealed to have somehow taken Aiko's place, pulling *him*self up in order to look at Ran from above while still holding the violet-eyed assassin down with coiling arms and legs. Hair like the spitfire-flecks of orange on a tigerlily fall loosly in front of the young man's face, obscuring his features. However, Ran does not need a full view to know who is hovering above him.   
  
"Guten Abend, Kaetzchen." the imposter smirks. "Was it good for you?" With this, he trails his eyes further down Ran's body, and upon finding what he is looking for, chuckles a little under his breath. "I guess it was."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
(...it is...it is someone calling me...)  
  
"...Aiko...you have to wake up..."  
  
"Please, hear us...it's only a dream..."  
  
(Only a...dream...?) the real Rosuto Aiko repeats, casting her gaze in every direction. There is definitely something flawed about this world. (Then...there is no threat...nothing to fear...it's only a nightmare.)  
  
"Aiko...please...can you hear us!?"  
  
In answer to the voices calling her name, Aiko closes the drooping lids of her uncanny, violet eyes, and focuses every fiber in her body on blocking out everything but the sound of their demanding presence summoning her back. Almost immediately, she feels the dream world drifting away, more and more distant, until...  
  
"Wake up!"  
  
...she opens her eyes, aware of the bed beneath her, the covers on top of her, and the two, desperate faces looking down at her from either side.  
  
"Ohaiyo..." she smiles, yawning as she sits herself up. "...or is it still dark outside?"  
  
"Aiko!" Nagi bursts out, glomping her around the neck, much as Toto does to him so often. "We didn't think we were getting through."  
  
"What happened to you is happening to everyone." Farfarello explains quickly, kneeling in closer as Nagi pulls away. "Horrible nightmares from the reactions Nagi saw, so it's a good thing we woke you as soon as we did. When he came to our room, he was only able to wake up *me*, so considering the two of us are the only ones who appear immune somehow, we think we have a pretty good idea who is behind this."  
  
Smiling in gentle admiration, Aiko throws back the covers, sitting on the edge of the bed with her bare feet resting on the cool, wooden floor boards. "As do I." she confirms. "But I want to be certain. If it is who we think, then he must be close by."  
  
"You're right. To invade so many minds at once he would have to be very close." Farfarello comments, standing thoughtfully with a cautious look at the door. "Perhaps...even inside."   
  
Aiko nods, furrowing her brow as the spinning gears inside her mind begin to work out what their best course of action should be and where it should begin. "Nagi, did you check everyone's room?"  
  
"Hai." he answers firmly, but then looks instantly troubled, jumping in promptly to change his reply. "No! I didn't. I only checked the rooms on the way here from mine, so the one at the end of the hallway..."  
  
Dawning with realization, their eyes all widen in alarm, frozen in place for only a fraction of a second before Aiko abruptly jumps to her feet. "Abyssinian!"  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Schuldrich!"  
  
"You sound disappointed to see me." the suave German grins, bringing himself nearly nose to nose with the unfortunate young man beneath him. "I'm hurt."  
  
In the spare bedroom Ran occupies above "Kitten's Cafe," Schuldrich has him in quite the precarious position. Dressed in a bright, blue shirt - left unbuttoned - and a pair of dark, grey pants, with his ever-present smirk playing dangerously over still damp lips, the Schwartz member paints a much different picture in Ran's mind than that of the scantilly clad woman he had so recently believed he was with.  
  
"How...how did you -"  
  
"Oh come now, Fujimiya." Schu cuts into Ran's fumbling for words. "You know how. The real question is...why did it work so well? Hehe. Seems you have a secret lusting for a certain kitty cat, and it isn't one of your teammates."  
  
Beyond the discomfort of having a very menacing enemy practically spread-eagle on top of him, this area of questioning is even worse in Ran's mind. "I didn't want anything from her...I...I tried to stop it!"  
  
"Not very convincingly. Even if you did hold tightly to your self-rightious morals, you were still enjoying yourself quite extensively." Schuldrich pauses there to cast a low-aiming glance at Ran's body once again. "Which, by the looks of your little friend down there, is proof enough of what you want."  
  
Ran's buttons have been pushed to the limit, and if his amethyst eyes ever narrowed with true fury before, they certainly are now. "You don't know anything, you sick son-of-a-bitch! Get off me!!" Pushing with every ounce of strength his angered adrenaline can muster, the pinned red-head thrusts upward to break free, but amazingly has very little success.  
  
"Do you really think you can get away?" Schuldrich teases, pressing Ran even harder down into the mattress. "But you're so tired...so weak..."  
  
The feather-touch of the German's soft whisper on the defenseless Weiss' skin - and just as suggesting in his mind - fogs over Ran's senses like a storm cloud. He feels limp and heavy, barely able to move.  
  
The trapped red-head twitches, fighting off Schu's attack. "...get...out of my...head..."  
  
"Awww...but it's so comfy there...hehehe..."  
  
Drained of energy and desperate for freedom, Ran turns his head longingly for the door, praying for someone, somhow, to come charging through and rescue him. What a thought. Imagine Fujimiya Ran yearning for some knight in shining armor, even if the knight he is thinking about looks far more like a fairy-tale princess than a hero.  
  
Noticing his prey's drawn attention, Schu turns to look at the door as well, but merely grins just as impishly as ever. "Looking for your friends? Go ahead, call out to them. They aren't gonna hear you. A bit too busy at the moment with their own problems, I'm afraid."  
  
"...wha...what did you do to them...?"  
  
"Just gave them a few bad dreams, but it'll keep them busy while I get what I came for."  
  
Though he is still fighting off the threat of exhaustion and calling comfort of sleep through Schu's intruding mind into his own, Ran refuses to give in, or give up. "...and what is that?"  
  
"You know very well." the empath breathes, trailing a long, thin finger down Ran's throat and further along his chest. "It's the same thing you want so badly. Hehe. That alluring, little firefly, of course. I'm just happy Bradley gave me permission to play a bit before I grabbed her. Do-gooder minds are so much fun to break."  
  
The walls of Ran's mind and consciousness turn to glass, cracking and shattering under the force of Schu's power. He can feel all his defenses faltering, all his boundaries, all his strength, wavering under the weight of someone determined to break into every crevice of secrecy and solitude he has held onto for so long. It is the worst kind of violation, when your very soul is laid bare for your most hated enemy to see.  
  
But Ran isn't thinking about himself right now. "...you...stay away from her..." he growls, low and threatening, and trembling from fighting so hard to keep control. "...I swear I will rip...you...apart...if you even touch her!"  
  
"Oh really? And who was just saying he *didn't* want anything from that fiery kitten down the hall? Hehe. Why don't you just admit it? You can't lie to me."  
  
Ran wrenches his head away, clenching his eyes shut in hopes of finding some solid ground with which to cling to, but finds none. "...I...respect Korat..."  
  
"Respect?" Schu repeats, clearly not buying it. "Come now, Fujimiya, you want her so badley you can taste it." Grin. "Oh wait...you did."  
  
The unbearable piercing of Schuldrich's laughter ricochets off the walls and back again, crawling up under Ran's skin like a virus. He can't take much more of this, but his mind is a haze. He can't focus, he can't think, he can't fight.   
  
He can't even get away.  
  
"It was...just an illusion."  
  
"But you wanted it."  
  
"I thought -"  
  
"You liked it."  
  
"I -"  
  
"Say it...go on..."  
  
"...I -"  
  
SLAM! "Abyssinian!!"  
  
Freeze. Both Ran and Schu's heads flinch towards the door as it flies open, revealing a startled, red-haired young woman, with two very unsure young men silhouetted behind her. Right before the final checkmate, Aiko, Nagi, and Farfarello have burst in to save the night. Nevertheless, they certainly aren't prepared for what they have found.  
  
This momentary disruption has cut the cord on Schuldrich's mental assault, leaving a very clear and focused mind for Fujimiya Ran to utilize. He sees his opportunity, and he is not going to let it pass him by.  
  
Howling in pent up aggression and rage, Ran jerks his knee up into the distracted German's stomach, forcing Schu to release his hold and stumble backwards, doubling over in pain. Not willing to waste a single second, the invaded red-head leaps to his feet, grabbing Schuldrich by the shoulders and slamming him brutally against the wall. Schu falls to the ground, unconscious, but Ran is not satisfied yet. He stalks forward, reaching down as if to attack again...  
  
"Abyssinian, stop!!"  
  
He pauses, breathing hard, and turns to look for the owner of that powerful voice commanding him. As if seeing for the first time, Ran's fierce, violet eyes meet another pair even more impassioned than his own, and somehow this incredible figure walking up beside him - placing her tender hand on his shoulder - returns him to his senses.  
  
"It is all right, Abyssinian." Aiko soothes, smiling despite her obvious concern. "I promise you, everything will be alright now..."  
  
  
*****A/N***** I bet you fan girls really got a kick out of this one. Naughty Schu-honey! The next chapter is definetely for the Schuldrich fans. Keep reviewing everyone! 


	15. 15

*****15*****  
  
  
Have you ever been truly afraid?  
  
I'm not talking about those prepubescent moments of cuddling under your covers to escape the monsters beneath your bed or hiding in your closet. I'm talking about real, life-flashing-before-your-eyes kind of fear. Ever felt that?  
  
Maybe you think you have, but this type of fear is unforgettable. It dives straight into your timid, little heart, and chews off pieces bit by bit. It is the kind of terror a rape victim feels, a person at the end of a gang-banger's gun barrel feels, or the way a small child abused by his father feels, years - a decade or more - after it happened.  
  
How would you deal with fear like that? Or, if you have, how *did* you?  
  
I don't think I can answer that question, so I'm pretty sure it isn't an easy one for you, either. Fear isn't something you can prepare for. It sneaks up on you, slithers across your skin, and burns your eyes at the sight of it. Fear is the root of every human emotion.  
  
We live for fear of not existing. We procreate for fear of dying off. We struggle for fear of loosing. We eat for fear of starving. We sleep for fear of collapsing. We dream for fear of being let down. We fall in love for fear of being alone. And we kill for fear of being killed.  
  
Life is an endless ring of fear. A circus ring with God and the Devil playing center stage, ordering us around, and we have to decide who we are going to listen to. Some of us choose the tight-rope. It isn't easy when you are constantly having to worry about your balance, but it certainly is the high road. Others choose the lions' den. Appealing in its adventure and lure of an audience, but deadly, and hardly worth the sacrifice you may not even realize you are offering until it is gone. Others yet choose the trapeze - my personal favorite - swinging from one side to the next, and praying that when they fall something will be there to catch them.   
  
That something, that safety-net below, is love. Don't you dare laugh at or mock my conclusion. It is the very presence of our friends and family offering us the help we so often feel ashamed at accepting, as if we would have to be weaklings before letting go and asking them to save us before we hit rock bottom.  
  
If you ask me, I am mighty thankful to have that net there at all.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Beep.   
  
The old, digital clock on the dusty coffee table has just began showing one in the morning upon its worn and fading face. Down in the basement of "Kitten's Cafe," everyone staying in the rooms above are gathered around a small, metal door. Everyone except the intruder, Schuldrich, that is, whose still unconscious body is locked up on the other side.  
  
No one is paying much attention to their surroundings, but it is apparent that although the layout above can often seem quite similar to how "Kitty in the House" once looked, the basement is an obvious exception. It is far smaller, but thankfully, the room Schu is being held in is much larger than the tiny closet "Kitty" had in the same spot.  
  
"Anyone have any ideas, 'cause I don't think I can stand being this cramped for much longer." Amaya offers pointedly, considering there are eleven of them huddled in such close proximity.  
  
"Until he wakes up..." Nori informs. "...there isn't much we can -"  
  
WHAM!  
  
Clearly, she is cut off before finishing her thought, and everyone jumps at the startling sound that came from the other side of the door. Actually, it was more like something slamming up against it.  
  
Omi shivers, cowering away. "I think he's awake..."  
  
"LET ME OUT!!" Schuldrich's voice booms, seeping through the metal, his accent sharper with the sharpness of his anger. "OUT! OUT NOW!! I'LL CRUSH YOUR MINDS INTO DUST IF YOU DON'T!!!"  
  
Closest to the pulsing doorway, Youji leans nonchalantly against the wall, taking a long drag on a much needed cigarette. "Yep." Puff. Puff. "Definitely awake."  
  
Again and again the sound of Schuldrich ramming into the door echoes around them, and his protests increase with each attempt, throwing out every threat and curse he can think of, though as far as mindfully carrying any of them out, he doesn't seem to be doing a thing.  
  
"...Na...Nagi-kun...he sounds so scary..." Toto whimpers, clinging to the sleeve of the little telekinetic's night-shirt. "Is he...always like this?"  
  
Nagi is more steady in the face of this scenario than most of the others, but the confusion and concern in his rain-storm eyes prove his apprehension. "No. I've never heard him act this frenzied before..."   
  
"ARE YOU LISTENING!?! YOU FUCKING FREAKS, I'LL TEACH YOU TO LOCK ME AWAY! OPEN THIS DOOR!!"  
  
Turning to Farfarello - who is standing very close to Aiko up front - Nagi worriedly catches his comrade's attention. "Do you...think he's afraid?"  
  
"It's more than that." the albino answers evenly, portraying the eerily sane and sound persona that so often frightens far more than his psychotic episodes. "He can't stand being closed in on all sides - in the darkness. He's panicking."  
  
Stepping forward a little, Hiromi turns to gaze straight into the door, as if trying to see right through it. "Is he...claustrophobic?"  
  
"No." Farfie answers simply. "It isn't small spaces that bother him, just being caged in. His greatest fear is having no way out. That's why he never closed my cell door behind him when he came in, even though Crawford kept yelling at him for it. I don't think he knew I noticed, but I did...everytime."  
  
The crowd grows silent, leaving only Schuldrich's screams and pummels against the door to continue filling the confined space. No one knows quite what to do, when suddenly, just when they think things can't possibly get any harder to deal with, all sound from inside Schu's room stops. No more pounding, no more shouts. Nothing.  
  
A slight murmuring amongst the group springs up as Aiko steps forward, right up to the door, and places a small, pale hand against it. Still nothing. Aiko's forehead creases in thought, and she bravely leans in, putting her ear to the cool metal for a better chance at picking something up. And then she hears it, and as it increases, the others begin to hear it, too.  
  
Crying. Schuldrich is crying.  
  
"Is he trying to trick us...?" Ken questions in a whisper, looking around at his companions, who all appear just as shocked to be hearing this as he is. "I know this guy's a good manipulator and all, but that doesn't sound fake to me."  
  
As before, no one fully knows what to do next, so they just stand there, with nothing but Schuldrich's sobbing voice to keep them company. Soon, however, the gasps and sniffles begin turning into mumbled words, and they realize...he is talking to himself.  
  
"...nein...Vater...nein..." he speaks in German, in a very small, frightened voice, like a child hiding from what lurks within the shadows. "...halt...bitte halt...Vater..."  
  
"What's he saying?" Amaya prompts, to anyone who will offer an answer. "Halt...? That means 'stop' or something, ne? Is he asking *us* to stop?"  
  
Moving in beside Aiko, Farfarello mirrors her with a hand on the door, looking as if he alone truly understands the man on the other side. "No. He isn't talking to us. 'Vater' means 'Father'. He's asking his father to stop."  
  
"Stop what...?" Omi asks slowly, still remaining as far from the action as possible.  
  
In reply, Aiko spins around sharply, facing out to everyone in the room. "Perhaps that is what we need to find out."   
  
Moving her eyes over each of them carefully, as if assessing their opinions and reactions, Aiko at last rests her gaze on Nori, who in turn nods very solemnly, instantly comprehending what her friend is silently asking of her.  
  
As the navy-haired young woman walks forward to meet her teammate at the door, her ever-serious expression is as grave as the situation before her. "A meld, to lure out his demons?"  
  
"Hai." Aiko smiles. "We are the cause of his breakdown in there, so we must also be the force of his resurrection, and only through true understanding can we achieve that." Grandly, the poised red-head whirls around to face the door once again, and immediately reaches to unlock it.  
  
"Wait!" Ran calls to stop her, speaking for the first time since being saved up above, and stepping out of the corner he had escaped to. "You can't be thinking of going in there..."  
  
Looking over her shoulder, Aiko smiles very broadly, with a confidence Ran wishes he could have more faith in. "That is exactly what I am thinking." she replies. "So far, Abyssinian, you have had the pleasure of seeing both Amaya and myself in action concerning our powers. Well, tonight you are finally going to get a look at what Nori can do."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
What, exactly, can Kei Nori do?  
  
With a mere touch of her hand, every secret in your heart could be unveiled, even those you yourself have forgotten. Nori has the power to withdraw truth from others, similar to what a telepath does, only the mind is opened not only for her to see and understand, but for the lucky victim to witness as well. Whether repressed memories or simply that which cannot be expressed into words, Nori takes it all into herself and reflects it back.  
  
"So...all you have to do is touch him...and you'll know why he's freaking out like this...?" Ken asks softly from a corner of the room, on guard for any unexpected moves Schuldrich might make.  
  
Six people from the group have decided to partake in this little endeavor for answers, leaving the others to wait in the main part of the basement. Those inside the storage room, hovering around Schuldrich's now shivering and delusional form, include Nori, Ken, Aiko, Ran, Hiromi, and Farfarello. As for those outside: Omi wanted absolutely nothing to do with such a memorably fearsome enemy, leaving Amaya to gladly remain behind with him; Toto was far too frightened, of course, so Nagi naturally felt more comfortable staying with her; and Youji...would rather jump in front of a moving train.  
  
"Hai. Skin contact is all I need." Nori speaks nonchalantly in reply to Ken's question, kneeling cautiously in front of Schuldrich. "However...I have never attempted this with someone who...could do the things he does...an empath...telepath...whatever."  
  
"Meaning...?" Ran prompts, hanging back slightly from the others, as if afraid to stand too near the now harmless and defenseless German.  
  
Nori stops herself centimeters before touching the side of Schuldrich's face - whose eyes are tightly closed, with beads of sweat breaking out all over as he trembles, continuing to mumble incoherently in German. "Meaning...I don't know what is going to happen." the ill-tempered, young woman admits. "You might want to hold onto something..."  
  
Struck with a sudden anxiety from choosing to be here at all, Ken starts, and just as Nori's hand makes contact..."What's *that* supposed to mean...?"  
  
WHOOSH!  
  
Lights out. Darkness. Every last person inside the room with Schuldrich is hit by a major wave of turbulence and nausea. When the ground at last settles again beneath their feet, and their eyes begin to adjust to the dim lighting, they become instantly aware that somehow they have left the basement below "Kitten's Cafe," and are standing in a completely different basement all together.  
  
In much the same positions as they were in before, the only other abnormality is that Nori is now in amongst them instead of being crouched beside Schuldrich. Speaking of everyone's favorite German Mastermind, he has been replaced by a very frail young boy, with straggly, sunset-colored hair.  
  
"Nor...what just happened...?" Hiromi's bright voice breaks into the quiet.  
  
"What we assumed would happen." explains Nori simply, indicating Aiko as her accomplice. "Considering Schuldrich's power is centered around invading other people's thoughts, it makes perfect sense that my melding with his consciousness would create a sort of mental shield, sucking everyone in a particular radius directly into his mind for a front row seat at what I usually would see alone. Quite extraordinary, actually."  
  
Ran and Ken take this news especially hard, and Ken goes so far as to rush right up to Nori and grab her by the shoulders. "You mean we're inside Schuldrich's head!?!"  
  
"More or less..." Nori clarifies, looking quite frustrated. "...and if you don't mind, would you kindly let go of me? If I lose my concentration the link will break. On the outside I am still in contact with him."  
  
Sheepishly, Ken jerks his hands away, internally scolding himself for overreacting so forcefully, especially after he and Nori have been getting along so much better. Still, the situation at hand is not your run-of-the-mill trip to the movies, this is a first-hand look into the mind of someone who has so often looked right into each of theirs.  
  
"What you're saying then...is that we are seeing what *he* is seeing..." Ran's low, toneless voice states from the back of the room. "Meaning...that little boy...is Schuldrich."  
  
The group stops dead, stone statues right where they stand, gazing across the room at the small figure huddled against the far wall, while he whimpers and mumbles just as Schu had. Though they cannot make out his face as it rests buried in his arms, no one could mistake that hair, or the odd after-play of his voice, even if it *is* much younger.  
  
"He's not speaking German anymore." Hiromi notes, inching a little closer to the sobbing child. "Why would he be crying in Japanese, though? He's so young, I wouldn't have thought he'd know it at this age."  
  
"He isn't speaking Japanese." Farfarello corrects firmly, picking up on the sounds from little Schu more keenly than the others. "You only think he is because what you are hearing is what your mind can most easily interpret. We're inside his head, remember? We're part of him. As far as he is concerned, he's still speaking his native tongue, even though we each hear our own."  
  
Curious and somewhat skeptical, Ken takes a hesitant step towards Farfie. "How can you be sure...?"  
  
Almost deliberately slow, the subdued albino turns to make eye contact, seeing right through his opposite's barriers of false confidence. "Because...I'm hearing him in English."  
  
"...Papa...please...don't come tonight...please stop...I don't want to do those things anymore...please..."  
  
SLAM!  
  
Everyone is thrown into silence, including the whimpering young boy, as the door is blasted open above them. Placed at the top of a rickety staircase, it is a very heavy, wooden door, and the sound it makes is enough to shake the walls.  
  
"Hmph...crying again?" an eerily familiar sounding, nasal voice booms from whatever room is on the other side of that basement door. "Just a useless, whining little boy."  
  
A tall, well-built man strides in onto the landing, making his way downstairs one step at a time. At first, the invading group panics, falling back towards the wall on their side of the room, until realizing the man cannot see them. They are only visitors, after all.  
  
"We are here to observe, so keep your eyes open and stay quiet." Nori instructs, whispering even though it is quite clear the man cannot hear them either.  
  
Vigilantly, they watch as he approaches Schuldrich, getting closer and closer, and causing the boy to tense up further with every move forward. The man is obviously Schu's father - the memory of him - but his voice is not the only thing that gives him away. His hair is short and tidy, but just as brilliantly orange as his son's, and the jade eyes piercing above a sharp nose and menacing smirk, are almost like seeing Schuldrich ten years into the future. He is beautiful and horrible at the same time.  
  
"...no, Papa...please don't hurt me..." little Schu trembles, clutching at the wall. "I won't listen to the voices...I promise...please don't make me -"  
  
"Shut up!" his father bellows, striking him across the side of the face, though still grinning just as cruelly. "I don't want to hear your excuses. You're a freak, a demon, and I'm going to keep treating you like one. I know about the voices in your head, the way you pry into other people's thoughts. Well, I'm going to show you what happens when the darkness of men's minds are acted out."   
  
Roughly grabbing little Schu by the front of his ragged shirt, his father drags the boy to his knees in front of him, staring coldly down into the frightened, tearful eyes of his son.  
  
"...no...please...I don't mean to hear the voices...I don't try to hear what people are thinking...Mama always said it was a gift..."  
  
"A gift!?!" his father roars. "You're mother was a witch and a whore, and she's burning in Hell right now for having you! Now...if you ever want to see the light outside again, you'll do as you're told. Understood...Emery?"  
  
Every solitary 'observer' has the very same thought at the very same time. (Emery...?)  
  
But no one carries through with the thought very far, for they are left dumbstruck as that awful man holds his son in place...and moves to undo his pants...  
  
"...no, Papa...no...I won't let you do this to me again!!!"  
  
In an instant, young Schuldrich glares up at his father with the unmistakable look of concentration he only gets when truly diving into another's mind. His father stops. Releasing Schu as if the touch of the child burns his skin, he staggers back, gripping the sides of his head. There is a coldness to the little boy's expression, a determination of vile proportions.  
  
"Wha...What are you doing to me!?!"  
  
The man is in visible anguish, breathing heavily, but little Schu shows no signs of answering, nor stopping his assault. Stumbling about the room, his father searches madly, as if hoping to find some object with the power to free him, something to end whatever torment he is in.   
  
There is a thick, metal pipe running from the ceiling down through the floor, and when Schuldrich's father spots it, he sees it as paradise manifested.   
  
Rushing headfirst into the pipe, he slams his head against it. "Get out! Get out of my head, you little monster!!"  
  
Again and again he brutally rams into it, screaming and cursing, until a final, strenuous collision signals the end, and he falls limp to the cold floor, lying motionless. For a moment or so longer, the powerful young boy remains in that same, intense stasis, but slowly his olive eyes begin to soften as his senses return, and he gasps, hyperventilating over the unearthly position his father is in...all because of him.  
  
"Papa...I'm sorry...I just didn't want to be hurt like that again..." he sobs, crawling towards the fallen figure a few feet away. "...don't be angry...I didn't mean to...I was just...so scared. Papa...? Papa, why won't you wake up? I'm sorry, please wake up. Please...I....don't wanna be alone with the voices..."  
  
Watching it all silently from the back of the room, the others are shocked beyond human comprehension. They now know the deepest secret of one of their most hated enemies - or in some cases, dearest friends - something they never could have imagined.  
  
"Nori..." Aiko speaks sternly, wearing an unreadable expression. "...break your contact with him. Now."  
  
WHOOSH!  
  
The group is suddenly back below "Kitten's Cafe," with Nori kneeling beside an adult Schuldrich as she lowers her once outstretched arm back to her side and stands, gradually moving away.   
  
If he was crying before, it is nothing compared to the tears streaming down Schu's face now, having relived a painful memory he had buried long, long ago. "...Stimmen...nur Stimmen...Ich bin allein..." he whispers, rocking back and forth, still caught up in his delusion of the past, and being heard in German once again now that the others have left his troubled mind.  
  
Gracefully, Aiko glides across the space separating her from Schuldrich, taking Nori's old place beside him, and pulls the sobbing man against her, the way a mother would hold her injured child. "...Emery..." she soothes, her comforting use of his true name fluttering off her lips like feathers on the wind. "Frieden, mein Kind. Frieden..."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Peace.   
  
Outside the wind is stilled, and the stars are struggling to peek through the overcast clouds blocking out the light of the moon above. It is almost two in the morning now, still that same night with so much commotion to remember. Schuldrich is no longer caged up in the basement, but sound asleep in Hiromi's room, while the robust blonde stands guard inside. He is going to have a hell of a lot more than a pounding headache when he wakes up.  
  
The rest of the mismatched group are spread out in different rooms, all wide awake, and none holding much hope for getting any sleep tonight. Omi and Youji are in the kitchen getting a late night snack, Ken and Nori disappeared downstairs into the darkened shop, and Nagi and Toto are curled up next to the heater beneath the window that leads out to the fire escape, where Fafarello is sitting on the steps that go up to the roof, watching the mournful sky.  
  
While Aiko leans against the wall on the other side of the living room, staring into nothing, Ran is just about to approach her when Amaya suddenly dashes in to offer a little of her boundless cheer. "Yo, Aiko! Why so glum?" she questions, racing to her friend's side, and leaving Ran in the dust to wait awkwardly near the landing. "We're winning! Three out of four is pretty good odds, ne?"  
  
"Two out of four, Amaya. Emery isn't ours yet." Aiko corrects solemnly. The night certainly seems to have taken its toll on her. "I know I should be in lighter countenance, but I guess this has just been a bit too draining on me for one night."  
  
Wrapping gentle arms around Aiko's waist and laying her lovely head against the taller young woman's shoulder, Amaya snuggles in comfortingly. "You push yourself too much, Nee-chan. We'll get through this. We've been through worse."  
  
Aiko hugs her dear friend in return, smiling down at her without a word, because words aren't really necessary when you know someone as well as they know each other.   
  
Eventually pulling away, Amaya moves as if to head back down the hallway to retire for the night, and gives her long, dark mane a shimmering toss. "I think I'm going to give ol' Mr. Sandman another whirl. You'll come get me if anything big happens, ne?" she asks, already knowing the obvious answer and turning as if to go, but before getting too far, she peers back over her shoulder. "Aiko...you know that no matter what happens...I'd never forget you, right? Ya see, I was just wondering if...well...do you think...you would ever forget about me...if things didn't work out?"  
  
Smiling gently, the tender red-head understands all too well. "No one could ever forget someone like you, Amaya. I promise."  
  
Now left relatively alone, Aiko notices Ran hovering a few feet away, watching her intently, and takes on the task of initiating contact, since he seems so flustered over how to do it himself. Holding rigidly immobile, Ran is devoid of all expression.  
  
"Eyes speak volumes, you know? But words are more productive." Aiko grins, hoping to get a slight smile out of him, too. She doesn't. "Something on your mind, Abyssinian? I hope you aren't going to complain about our new tenant. It is becoming old habit with you."  
  
"That is not what I want to talk about." Ran dismisses, looking far too serious. "After all that has happened, I would be a fool to lose faith in you now. It's only...I feel like...something doesn't add up. You are afraid to use your own powers, and yet you dedicate your life to helping people who want to exploit them. I know you feel you owe something to Farfarello's mother and to...Botan...but is that everything? Is there something else you haven't told me?"  
  
The change in expression upon Aiko's delicate features proves she has been expecting this inevitable line of questioning. "All of Fluesternd is fighting for their own reasons, as well as for each other, but you are right, Abyssinian. There is something else."  
  
"What then? What is it?"  
  
"If you really want to know...come with me..."  
  
Sweeping past him, Aiko leads the way to her bedroom near the end of the hallway, not bothering to look behind to see if Ran is following. She knows he is there. Once reaching it, she holds the door open for him and shuts it behind them, causing Ran to tense slightly, remembering the similar situation with Schuldrich a few hours ago, though he immediately brushes his uneasiness away. The woman before him *is* Rosuto Aiko; there is nothing to be afraid of.  
  
"I brought you here, Abyssinian..." Aiko begins, stepping towards her desk. "...to show you *this*." She picks up one of the pictures lying beneath her table lamp, and holds it out for him to see. It is the one of the boisterous, young girl, with auburn hair, and a beaming smile not even Amaya or Omi could hope to emulate.  
  
"I know this picture." Ran breathes in disbelief, reaching instantly into his back pocket. "It's Botan's daughter...Azumi. I have the same one." Pulling out an identical, though slightly more worn version of the picture, Ran holds his up to Aiko's in comparison.  
  
Smiling in recognition, Aiko laughs a little under her breath. "I knew it. I just knew Botan wouldn't let anything happen to his copy. So, he gave it to you, did he?"  
  
"Not exactly." Ran counters. "He left it in my car. I don't why, but I've been carrying it around ever since, as a reminder of something, I suppose."  
  
"A reminder of what you are fighting for?"  
  
This time it is Ran's turn to chuckle under his breathe. "I guess so. That sounds a bit...silly, ne?"  
  
"Not at all."  
  
Gently, Aiko sets her copy back down upon the desk, and Ran returns his to its rightful place in his pocket. However, the smiling face of that little girl isn't exactly the explanation Ran had been expecting.  
  
"I don't understand." he questions, looking at Aiko intensely, determined to get the answers he is looking for. "What does Botan's daughter have to do with this? I know she's the reason he got involved with Kritiker in the first place, but...she's dead, isn't she?"  
  
Thoughtful and full of the patience that Ran is definitely lacking at the moment, Aiko moves towards the bed, sitting on the edge. "No, she is not dead. Azumi is very much alive, actually." the red-head's low-toned voice speaks casually, as if what she is saying is nothing out of the ordinary. "She is almost ten years old now, and even knowing she will never see her parents again, she still wears that invincible smile, optimistic in everything, no matter how bleak a situation looks."  
  
Swiftly, Ran joins her in the space of a stride and sits down beside her. "You've seen her then?" he asks urgently, with hints of hopeful fervor he rarely possesses. "Where is she? Botan still didn't know before he...was killed."  
  
"In an orphanage a few miles north of here." Aiko explains. "It is well hidden; Estet used to control it. They were the ones who took Azumi and killed Botan's wife all those years ago. You see, Azumi is a very special, little girl. She is clairvoyant - almost identically to Brad Crawford, to be exact. Estet had originally planned to replace their Oracle with her, after catching wind of his conflicting plans with their own, but the members who knew about Azumi no longer exist, thanks to you. I just wish Botan could have seen her before he died."  
  
Sighing deeply, Ran isn't sure how to reply. Now he knows the answers to all his questions, but this is much more to take in than he ever expected. Aiko most likely discovered Azumi was alive only days, or even hours, before Botan risked his life to save Ran's. There is an unavoidable guilt that comes with knowing you are the only reason a father will never be reunited with his child.  
  
Sitting there in silence for far too long, Ran at last looks up at Aiko again, and asks the only other question he has. "What is to become of her now?"  
  
"She is going to have a family." Aiko answers simply. "At this very moment she is waiting for me to come take her away from that place. When I found her, she had been so excited at the thought of seeing her father again, and then...so broken when I had to tell her he wouldn't be coming. So, I promised that as soon as my mission was over, I would adopt her. And that is exactly what I plan to do."  
  
Ran isn't as surprised at this revelation as one might think; Aiko is the very kind of person who would go to such lengths.   
  
They fall into silence once again, occasionally looking at each other, as well as off into space, as both mull over what has happened so far, and what is likely to come. The journey definitely isn't over, but now there is even more reason to strive for a happy ending: the happiness of a child.  
  
"Abyssinian...may I ask *you* something now?" Aiko inquires softly, peeking at her companion from out of the corner of her eyes. "...what...what happened between Emer...Schuldrich and yourself - since he was Schuldrich at the time? You have seemed rather disturbed ever since we captured him. I must admit, a girl could infer a lot from walking in on something like that."  
  
Clearly, Aiko had meant to make a joke and lighten whatever horrors Ran is going through. Her tactic, however, doesn't put him at ease. "...what do *you* think happened...?" he questions right back, eyeing her just as shadily.  
  
"*I* think...he used his manipulative powers to make you think he was someone else. So, naturally, when he revealed himself, you were taken by quite a surprise. Am I right?"  
  
Nodding in awe of Aiko's deductive capabilities, Ran remains silent, hoping she will get the hint and change the subject. No such luck.  
  
"I guess the real question then is...*who* did he pretend to be?" Aiko grins, leaning forward to catch Ran's eye, since he is flustered and shying away from her. "You don't have to tell me, but I am a little curious. Who would be able to get you into a position like that willingly? Hmmm...I wonder..."  
  
Pushed beyond the comfort zone, Ran is severely shaking as he slowly turns his head to look back at her, but the moment their eyes meet, something about Aiko's expression pushes him even further, and he jumps to his feet, backpedaling away. "...I...err...need to...go...do something...uhhh...somewhere..." he mumbles, struggling for words as he stumbles back, and ends up backing right into Aiko's desk. The unexpected jolt causes the radio resting on the edge to plummet for the floor, landing with a crack, and jerking on in the middle of a fittingly familiar song. "Go...gomen. I'll get it."  
  
Just as Ran is reaching down to turn the radio off and put it back in its place, Aiko unexpectedly appears right beside him, and stops him with the touch of her hand on his outstretched arm. "Don't. I love this song. It has been a long time since I have heard it. Let it play."  
  
Ran obeys, pulling back, and swallows hard as he listens to the lyrics. It is a song by X Japan, and one that he, too, remembers quite well.   
  
//Dry your tears...with love...//   
  
It plays, a beautiful melody set to tender words, and infused with the power to make Ran even more uncomfortable.  
  
"Abyssinian, it has been such a difficult night. Why don't we do something to make up for it?" Aiko suggests merrily, grasping his hands to pull him closer. "Dance with me."  
  
"Nani!?" Ran cries, blushing fiercely, and fumbling to get out of her clutches. "I...I don't dance...I can't."  
  
"Nonsense! Anyone can dance."  
  
"No...really. I'll cripple you."  
  
Aiko only laughs, embracing him anyway, and takes the lead as she sways to the music, moving him like an unwilling puppet. Though a bit clumsy, Ran eventually gives in and relaxes against her, but a stirring deep in his stomach warns him to be careful. What happened with Schu is still fresh in his mind, and frankly...it scares him.  
  
Resting her head on his shoulder, Aiko sighs, humming with the song, and whispers beside Ran's ear. "See, it isn't so hard. All you have to do is let the music take you. It's a wonderful way to relax. You don't even have to think. Just feel..."  
  
(...just feel...)  
  
Abruptly, Ran's entire body stiffens in rememberance of Schuldrich's imitation having said the very same thing, only in much different context.  
  
"What's wrong?" Aiko asks worriedly, noticing his renewed unease.  
  
A part of Ran longs to cling onto that fear pecking away at his confidence, but he has never been one to play the victim. Firmly, he pushes all negative thoughts aside, and settles in again, holding Aiko tenderly as they sway to the music. "Nothing...nothing's wrong. I've just never danced with such a...forceful woman before."  
  
Aiko's low, musical voice laughs gently, clinging even tighter to him in return. Even out of place, the simplest, most taken-for-granted things, can mean the most after a hard day. Out of anyone in the world right now, these two certainly know how true that is.  
  
The world might just be changing right before their eyes.  
  
  
*****A/N***** *sniffle* I just love tender moments. Okay, all explanations are out in the open now. Well, there are few things left you don't know about - like Brad's secret past :-) - but we'll get to that later. Next is Schu waking up and facing...alot. Tune in next time, and...ON HANDS AND KNEES I BEG YOU TO REVIEW!! Ja! 


	16. 16

*****16*****  
  
  
Nothing is more deceptive than your own reflection.  
  
Think about it. When we finally look ourselves full in the face, through whatever reflective surface we ascribe to, it is either to mask our imperfections, or to check up on the ones we already masked. No one ever wants to see the truth beneath the surface, so what makes us believe we ever really do?  
  
If you could peel away - layer by layer - every inch of your skin, do you imagine you would find a porcelain doll of flawlessness underneath? Certainly not. You would run screaming in the other direction. If you hadn't already passed out from the pain, that is. Sometimes what lies on the inside is a bit hard to handle. Then again, sometimes what remains on the outside is even more frightening.  
  
So how do we deal? How do we accept what exists within us, while trying to let go of the protective barriers we have created to pretend it isn't there?  
  
We try.  
  
We struggle, fall a little along the way, cry and scream every second, and if we're lucky, somehow we make it through. I hope I'm not making it sound easy, because it isn't. It is, however, necessary, even if we are too stubborn to embrace what it offers us.  
  
I have never been fond of mirrors. They show too much, and not enough. Most of the time, it is as if you are seeing everything you do not want to see, while being denied everything you wish you could.  
  
Thank God for those who help us see what reflections cannot show us...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"...Hilfe...jemand...jeder..." Schuldrich mumbles in his sleep, tossing and turning on the bed. He has been lying in Hiromi's room ever since the events below, but only recently have his dreams turned against him. "...fortgehen...la...LASSEN MICH ALLEIN!"  
  
Jade eyes spring open, jolted awake by the force of the visions in his head. Schu's eyes are blurred, blinking to make out his surroundings, and there is an ache in every bone in his body, making it difficult to breathe.  
  
"Awww, did you have a nightmare, little boy?" a teasing, feminine voice sounds from somewhere close by - a very familiar, feminine voice. "Serves you right, I'd say, after what you did to us. But that's mean of me. After all, it's not as if you can fight back."  
  
Gradually, Schuldrich's eyes begin to focus, and he recognizes where he is. Not too long ago he had been spying through the shutters of this very room, just as he had through all the windows of this building, though now he is a prisoner within its walls.  
  
"What's going on...?" coughs out his raspy voice, strained from countless, unremembered screams, as he labors to turn his head in the direction of his captor's voice.  
  
"You messed up, pretty boy, and now you belong to us."  
  
The figure seated next to the bed comes into view, revealing long, blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, intoxicating curves, and a playful, little smirk that reminds Schuldrich far too much of his own.  
  
"Well...if it isn't...one of the kitties next door." Schu comments half-heartedly, very unlike himself, though obviously trying desperately to appear as if this whole ordeal hasn't phased him in the least. "...now...what was that...you said...you think...I belong to *you*...hehe...don't...make me laugh..."  
  
The accustomed sarcasm riddles his words, but it comes across weak - forced. It isn't easy to revert back into the comfort of your devilish, little self after being so rudely awakened by a past you had pleasantly forgotten.  
  
Hiromi leans back in her chair, waiting expectantly for Schuldrich to attempt whatever move he plans to make, though she doesn't seem too worried. Appearing as if he means to spring from the covers and make some dashing exit, the fatigued German jolts up in bed - just as she imagined he would - but instantly falls back with a cringe and cry of pain, as if his muscles are unwilling to listen.  
  
"Oh no, you can definitely hold your own in *that* condition." the taunting blonde states with an overly-dramatic yawn.  
  
Naturally, Schu finds this outcome far more unsettling. "What the hell did you do to me?!"  
  
"Just injected you with some powerful muscle relaxants, that's all. Wouldn't want that super-human speed getting the better of us, ne?"  
  
This is a rather unnerving situation for anyone to find themselves in, especially in Schuldrich's case. Not only is he mentally drained and confused, but his own body refuses to respond to his commands. He is like a drugged mental patient - an invalid - with something far worse than chains or bars holding him captive: the simple fact of having no control.  
  
"I'd get comfortable if I were you." Hiromi suggests, smiling with meager sympathy. "I'm afraid we don't have any plans to let you go. So, even if the meds we gave you wear off, we'll just give you another dose. At least until you start seeing things our way."  
  
With all humor lost from his expression and his voice, Schu grimaces darkly. "I think you better start brainstorming another plan, kitty-cat, because I only see things one way, and that's *my* way. Now, I don't know what you sirens did to Farf and the kid, but your success rate is about to take a nose-dive."  
  
"I'm surprised to hear you say that." his companion replies somberly, though with a hint of devious intentions, as she leans forward with a swift toss of golden hair. "I mean, if I had just seen a repressed memory from my childhood that's been giving me nightmares ever since I passed out from the trauma, I'd be a little more open to the people trying to help me through it." Hiromi pauses, smiling pointedly as Schu takes in her blunt analysis, and then slips from her chair to kneel on the floor, bringing her much closer to his immobile form on the bed. "But, then again, I'm not you, am I...Emery?"  
  
Every weakened muscle in Schuldrich's body tenses, sending spasms of piercing pain through billions of enflamed nerve cells. Nevertheless, he does not call out, only winces, and clenches his teeth while glaring dangerously back into Hiromi's baby-blue eyes. "That...is not...my name." he growls, forced to clench his eyes shut in order to banish the resurfacing images of what he had been shown down below. "You have no right...you don't know -"  
  
"But I do know." she interrupts, looking him full in the face without an ounce of fear. "What you saw, what you relived, I saw, too. Quite a few of us did, thanks to your power mixed with Nori's. The way I see it, since Emery *is* your real name, I have every right to use it."  
  
If they listened close enough, they would be able to hear every single creak of the building resettling around them against the cool, night air; so much time passed with nothing said, without a breath released, as Hiromi seated herself back in her chair, and looked down at Schuldrich patiently.  
  
Finally, after realizing her hostage probably wouldn't be jumping at the chance to initiate new conversation, Hiromi speaks up again. "You're looking at this as if we have made you a prisoner, when all we want is to help you understand that you have no place with Schwartz. You don't need it. That adorable, little boy I had the pleasure of seeing inside of you doesn't need it either. And I think...just maybe...he doesn't even want it."  
  
"Hn. You think you know me so well?" Schu snaps back. "The only things you know about me are the things you want to believe. Truth is, Schwartz is the only thing I've ever needed. I'd like to see you convince me otherwise, because there is no way you could ever understand what that little boy went through, and why he hates the world so much."  
  
Cornflower eyes implore with brutal force for acceptance as Hiromi stares back at him, all her mocking tone flooded away. "I thought you could read minds." she speaks softly, with a melancholy smile. "Go ahead, take a look into mine. I think you'll find I understand exactly how that little boy felt..."  
  
For a moment, Schuldrich just looks at her, unable to throw out a come-back, or find anything to counter her with. But eventually, his jade eyes begin to unfocus, and he seems to be looking right through her, searching for whatever it is she means for him to find.  
  
A sharp intake of breath signals when his investigation uncovers vivid images of a past far too much like his own, and as he comes back into himself, those haunting eyes focus back on Hiromi's face, with the disturbing look of horrific comprehension.  
  
"Not a pretty sight, ne?" the buxom blonde smiles warmly. "Maybe it's time you stopped snooping around people's minds so much, and started really seeing what goes on inside."  
  
For once, Schuldrich doesn't have anything to say. What can he say? Any retort he could think up would sound false, because it would be false. Anything else would be admitting she is right.  
  
And that is something he is not ready to do.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
What can he do? Everyone else is off in the company of someone they feel at ease with, but he can't even imagine being with another human being right now. I suppose it has something to do with being so accustomed to the institutionalized life. After so many years, Farfarello is more at home in an enclosed room than out in the open world.  
  
Tonight, however, he is looking up at the stars from the fire-escape of "Kitten's Cafe," breathing in fresh, twilight air, completely in love with the feeling of freedom, while hating the feeling of being so powerless, even now that he is no longer held back by the chains that once bound him.  
  
(I don't know if I can get used to feeling like this...) the young albino muses, hugging his legs as he sits on the steps beside the open window into the living room. (Being in control like this...thinking clearly...letting things be what they are...and...not blaming every heartache on...You...and what You did to me...what *I* did...and *have* done...for so many years...)   
  
Unexpectedly, a few stubborn tears begin flooding his tawny iris, though he doesn't really understand why. Truthfully, he doesn't care; he cherishes the feeling of warmth and wetness as they slide down his face. He cherishes feeling anything these days, now that he has once again learned how.  
  
(I'm not worried about myself...anymore. I just can't stop thinking about *him*.) he continues, as if having a conversation with himself and God at the same time. (I never knew those things about him. He didn't either, I suppose. But...what do we do now? What if...what if he doesn't see things the way Nagi and I have started to see? It wouldn't be the same without him. It wouldn't be right...)  
  
Slowly, Farfarello, reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small piece of yellow cloth. He smiles. How strange it is that something so simple can bring so much peace, just as the simple act of holding each other is bringing so much peace to Nagi and Toto, seated on the floor just beneath the window inside.  
  
A cool breeze blows in steadily from above them, keeping them awake despite the late hour, while at the same time forcing them to snuggles in close to one another in order to keep out the cold. They haven't spoken much since Toto recovered from her nightmare, but the memory of it haunts the young girl so fiercely, she almost fears the tender touch Nagi offers by brushing a tear from her face.  
  
"Toto...are you alright?" he whispers in concern, trying to look her in the eyes, though she cannot bring herself to look back at him. "Please, tell me. I hate seeing you like this. Is it because of the dream Schuldrich gave you? Is that why you're being so quiet?"  
  
Slipping silently out of his grasp, Toto turns away, her voice small and timid as she speaks. "Hai, Nagi-kun. It was so scary." she admits, visibly shaking as she remembers what she had been shown. "It was about us. We were living together, and we were so happy. But...you...you weren't the Nagi-kun I know. You changed. You were mean and...you tried...to hurt me..."  
  
"...Toto..." Nagi breathes, distressed and ashamed for causing her pain, even if it was only a dream.  
  
"You...said such horrible things...did such horrible things...the way...Papa used to..."  
  
Collapsing into tears, Toto sobs and shivers, still facing away from the young man beside her. Though Nagi cannot bear to see her so heartbroken, he isn't really sure what he can do to make her feel better. For her, having a dream like that would have been the worst experience, dragging up the worst memories from a time she had finally began to put behind her. How can he make that go away?  
  
Naturally, Nagi does the only thing he can. Lunging forward, the small brunette wraps his arms tightly around Toto from behind, pulling her against his chest as if he means to hold on forever. Actually, that is exactly what he means to do.  
  
"I will never hurt you, Toto. I promise." pours out his desperate words. "Whatever things I said or did...they were just an illusion. I...I love you, Toto. Always. We don't hurt the ones we love, remember? We do everything we can to protect them and make them feel safe. Please...please believe me..."  
  
Turning back to him, there is only one reply Toto needs to give. "Ai shiteru, Nagi-kun." she whimpers, throwing her arms just as strongly around him as he had around her, and forming so perfectly against him, one might think they were made to fit together. Two pieces of the same puzzle, shaped to intertwine forever.  
  
It is one of the greatest expressions of love, to simply be with someone, and to know you belong with them. The same is true even for the love of a true friend, and Omi and Youji are prime examples of the power of friendship, simply by sitting at the kitchen table together, sipping from the warm drinks in their hands.  
  
The brisk, night air has penetrated far enough inside the apartment to convert even this space into a slightly unbearable environment, with the tiled floor and buzzing refrigerator adding to the cold. However, the young men enjoying each others' quiet company are flushed - perhaps from more than just their tea.  
  
"Youji-kun...? Are...are we friends?" Omi asks candidly, staring down into the contents of his mug.  
  
Alarmed by this point-blank inquiry, the emerald-eyed, young man nearly spills his drink onto his lap. "Nani? How can you ask that? We'll always be friends, Omiitchi. Don't you think we are?"  
  
"Hai, of course I do!" the little blonde mends, setting his mug down on the table, and looking up into his companions startled face with a sheepish smile. "It's only...the dream I had. All of you...you left me behind during a mission...and...and gave me over to our enemies...like I didn't matter...or mean anything to you. I know it was only a nightmare, but...it felt so real..."  
  
As painful as it is to hear, Youji understands completely. "I know what you mean. My dream wasn't all that peachy either. It was years from now, and the rest of you were all...dead...because of...because of me. I...killed you. It didn't seem possible, even when I was right there, but the memories were in my head as if they really happened. It didn't just *feel* real, it *was* real, at least as long as I was part of it. I was so scared, just like you must have been, but I know things would never turn out that way. I mean...I love you guys! You can't work with someone for years, watching their backs, living in the same home, and not feel *something*, ne?"  
  
Sometimes there are moments when everything feels complete - when everything feels right - and anything is possible. Unfortunately, these rare moments are usually interrupted long before they should be, and this time is no exception.  
  
"KAWAII!!"  
  
The affectionate exchange between Omi and Youji is abruptly imposed upon as a very energetic Amaya appears in the kitchen doorway, having seen everything from her eavesdropping perch.  
  
"I came in to get a glass of warm water to help me sleep, and what do I find? You're like two bishounen from a shounen ai manga!" the short brunette exclaims, bounding in next to the table. "That was just so sweet."  
  
"Shounen ai!?!" Omi repeats wildly, with reddened cheeks and wide, blue eyes. "Amaya-chan, what are you implying? I don't know what you think you heard, but you -"  
  
"Caught us." Youji interjects casually, leaning back in his chair. "Really, *koi*, there's no point in denying it. The little fairy-child caught us red-handed. We might as well fess up."  
  
A thrilled giggle escapes Amaya's lips, but Omi can barely produce a single sound. While the overjoyed, young woman proceeds to rant and rave about how she just knew something was going on between the two, Youji bends over to whisper in his little friend's ear, still grinning broadly over his ingenious plan.  
  
"Just go with it, bishounen. Look how happy I've made her."  
  
Omi begins to protest, but Youji silences him, covering his mouth swiftly with a large hand.  
  
"Shhh. Play along." the older man chides. "I've got this worked out perfectly. Follow my lead and you'll get exactly what you want."  
  
For some strange reason, Omi has a hard time finding his friend's words reassuring. (What *I* want...?)  
  
"Sumimasen, Amaya?" Youji begins, cutting in to the brunette's flowing conversation with...herself. "I have something to ask of you now that you know our little secret."  
  
Sitting down in the empty chair between the two young men, Amaya beams with all the evil thoughts fluttering around inside her head, but gives Youji all of her attention. "Anything, Yotan! Are you two hoping to add someone to the mix? I'd be happy to volunteer."  
  
The seductive look she tosses Omi sends chills down the poor boy's spine, and he swears the room just shot up a few degrees, finding this whole situation very unsettling.  
  
"I'm afraid that's not what I had in mind." Youji corrects, to Omi's extreme relief. "Actually, we've decided to give each other up. You see, Omi has his eye on someone else, and - though it pains me to let him go - I just can't stand in the way of true love."  
  
At last, the direction Youji is going with this charade is becoming all too clear to the blue-eyed boy, and although Omi does feel he should step in and put an end to all this, he finds himself remaining silent. Perhaps there is something to the playboy's tactics after all. He may not be very good at holding onto a woman himself these days, but he has always proved to be an incredible match-maker.  
  
"Sugoi! Are you saying Bombay-kitten feels the same way about me as I feel about him?" Amaya asks excitedly, poised to glomp the boy beside her should the answer be what she is hoping for.  
  
Youji throws Omi a sly wink. "You guessed it. He's too shy to admit the truth himself, but the poor kid is crazy about you."  
  
"I knew it!" Amaya cries, diving over the table to capture Omi in her arms. "I'm very perceptive when it comes to these things. But...are you sure about this? I wouldn't want to come between you two?"  
  
"Ummm..."Omi begins, smiling weakly while trying to pry Amaya off. "...can I say something?"  
  
"No." Youji smirks, turning instantly to their thrilled companion. "Trust me, Amaya. We've had our fun, but you two were meant for each other. I'll be alright. There's always a few fish I keep hooked in case a relationship doesn't work out."  
  
Adjusting to Amaya's hold as best he can, Omi is not exactly sure whether he came out of this unscathed or not. Sure, he cares for Amaya very much, and with his track record the chances of him ever fessing up on his own would have been slim to none, but is the little, white lie Youji just told going to come back and haunt him? Most likely.  
  
Things often come back to haunt us, usually because we refuse to deal with them appropriately when we have the chance. Ken certainly knows the truth in that. No matter how many years pass, he still blames himself for so much more than he should. Equally, Nori blames herself for her brother's disappearance, and both of them are far too stubborn to ever see things in a brighter light.  
  
Having slipped down the stairs into the darkened shop below, Ken and Nori are seated at the cafe stand, picking at stale danishes that had been put away under the counter from the other day. They haven't said much, but Ken was the one who suggested they escape somewhere more private, and Nori is eager to understand why.  
  
"Are we just going to sit here all night, stuffing our faces, or are you going to tell me why we are down here?" she asks frankly, eyeing him from over the top of her glasses.  
  
Ken fidgets awhile with his doughnut, staring down at his bare feet.   
  
Both of them are still dressed for bed: Nori in a tank top and pajama pants, and Ken in his worn-in sweats and a T-shirt he had slipped on before the group had gone down to the basement.  
  
"I...wanted to tell you...about the nightmare I had." the brunette starts off, looking anywhere and everywhere but at the woman next to him. "It had to do with...my family...my brother, mostly. That's why I...I just can't talk about it with the guys. Not yet. But I have to tell someone. It's driving me crazy."  
  
To put it mildly, Nori is a little surprised by this admission, and blushes slightly at how he feels he can trust her enough to share something so personal. Of course, they have already shared with one another things they hadn't shared with anyone.  
  
"I would be more than happy to listen, Siberian." Nori smiles, not truly understanding the rapid pace of her pulse, but adoring the savage beating ringing in her ears.  
  
Looking up at last into Nori's silver eyes, Ken smiles back at her, and then sighs deeply, gathering his thoughts. "It all started with me in the shop. That's where I was when he came in. Toshiro. It felt so right having him there, like he'd never left. But...then he asked me to go outside with him, and everything changed. When I went through the door, I was suddenly in the alley where...he was killed. It was like seeing it happen all over again. There he was, struggling with the man who attacked us, and screaming for me to run away and save myself. Back then, the night it really happened, I listened to him. I was nothing but a fucking coward! I actually listened and ran away!"  
  
Angered tears find their way down Ken's face, and his fists are clenched so tight, all the blood is rushing away. Nori does not interrupt him though, even if a part of her wants so desperately to dispel his beliefs. She knows he needs to let this out, and say what he feels needs to be said.  
  
"This time...this time I wasn't going to run away." Ken continues, glaring dangerously at the air. "I wasn't going to let my aniki die again just because I was too afraid to help him. I ran down there, as fast as I could, but...I was still too late. It was so unfair! Even given a second chance I failed him...but I couldn't let him die in vain...not unless someone paid for taking him away. I raced after the killer, determined to get my revenge. But...when I finally caught him...he was...me. The killer was me. It was all my fault...because I couldn't save him...he died because of me. All because of...me..." The overcome young man breaks, sobbing helplessly, though fighting so hard to keep his tears away.   
  
Honestly, this isn't exactly an area of expertise Nori is well versed in - comforting others - though for some unknown reason she has an uncanny knack for it. In a heartbeat, she bridges the separation between them and holds Ken closely against her chest, allowing him to cry openly on her shoulder while tendrils of curled, navy hair brush his skin.   
  
We are all children, called to act as mothers and fathers, sister and brothers, friends and lovers, to each and every other person in the world. It is a calling few hear, but all are summoned to.  
  
"It was only a nightmare." Nori soothes, speaking tenderly into his ear. "Toshiro doesn't blame you for what happened, or for any of the things you have had to do over the years. I know it must be very hard, wondering if things could have been different, if your family is ashamed of the things you have done, but if they are anything like you, I am certain they are proud of who you are. They would have to be. You are *not* a killer, and you did not kill your brother. Never let yourself think that way. Ever."  
  
Gradually, Ken pulls away, and laughs a little as he wipes at his tears. "You must think I'm such an idiot for crying over some stupid dream." he states shamefully. "It's just...lately...I've been blaming myself more and more for what happened. Awhile back, Weiss ran into this young guy trying to avenge his parents' death. Akira. He reminded me so much of Toshiro, and I wanted to help him any way I could. But I wasn't strong enough. Wasn't fast enough. I couldn't save him, just like I couldn't save my aniki. I know I shouldn't blame myself, and you're probably right about everything. It's just so -"  
  
"Hard." Nori finishes, tenderly placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know. It's hard not to blame yourself, especially when you are the only one left alive to blame. But that is what your friends are here for. They are here to make you feel better, and remind you that you are not alone. Even if you aren't ready to tell them more about your past, they are still here for you. And...so am I."  
  
Darkness is a warm blanket in the dead of night, wrapping snuggly around you and keeping you safe from the chill and brutality of light. By the cafe stand it is very dark with all the overhead lights turned off, but the dim lighting of the moon and stars outside cast just enough of a silvery glow on Ken and Nori's features to offer each other more peace and tranquillity than either feel they deserve.  
  
Regaining his lost control, Ken smiles over at his companion in gratitude, feeling more at home than he has in a very long time. "Your turn." he says with a grin.  
  
"Nani?" Nori breathes, realizing he expects her to tell her own tale in return. "My dream seems so pointless compared to yours. I was just...alone. Completely alone. Everyone left because I kept saying I didn't need them, even though I really did...really do. I suppose, it all goes back to my aniki, too, and how I keep thinking he left me because of something I did."  
  
"Which you now know couldn't possibly be the case." Ken cuts in with a know-it-all smirk. "At least, you can't expect me to allow you to think that way. If your brother is still out there, I'm sure he had a reason for leaving, and one day you'll find out the truth."  
  
Nori shakes her head in defeat, laughing a little herself. "We compliment each other well, don't we, Siberian?"  
  
"I guess we do." he replies, and then raises a scrutinizing eyebrow. "But for the last time, would you call me 'Ken'? I'm so sick of code names I could scream. Ne, Nori-chan?"  
  
Giggling again, Nori nods. "Hai...Ken."  
  
And times ticks on, well into the morning, with an array of varied conversations and revelations. Nevertheless, they will all eventually have to go to sleep.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
She was finally asleep.  
  
In Hiromi's suffocating room in the apartment above, the lights are dim and soothing, and all sound around and within has calmed like the eye of a hurricane. The beautiful blonde seated next to the bed, charged with watching over the dangerous young man lying in it, is snoozing away, too exhausted to keep her snow-blue eyes open another minute.  
  
Sensing the stillness outside the room, and noting the advantage he now has over his guardian, Schuldrich smiles cleverly, pulling back the covers, and achingly touching his feet to the floor, though it pains him with every contraction his muscles make.   
  
The injection he received is still in effect, but he is confident he can sneak his way free undetected, without having to resort to his uncanny speed.  
  
Dragging himself to the door, it is as if he has aged 50 years, and it takes him far longer to reach it than he anticipated. However, when he finally does, he throws a smirking glance back at the slumbering woman behind him, and then grandly opens the door, stepping into the empty, darkened hallway.  
  
Cautiously, the weakened German gives his surroundings a once over. (Piece of cake.) he thinks deviously. (Guess they don't know me as well as they think.)  
  
He takes a step forward, but in an instant, he unexpectedly freezes, sensing that he is not as alone as he had first thought.  
  
"You're going back to him, aren't you?"  
  
Schuldrich tenses, flinching from the discomfort it causes, but slowly turns to face the shadows that have spoken. From around the corner, young Naoe Nagi appears, illuminated by the moon shining in through the window at the far end of the hall. His expression is unreadable, but something in his storm-cloud eyes...Schu can't explain.  
  
"What do you care, kid? I figured you'd be the first one to jump at the chance to get rid of me." the red-head sneers, narrowing his gaze. "So why don't you just turn around, forget that you saw me, and go on living your happy, little life. The only reason you're even thinking of stopping me is to make sure your half-witted girlfriend doesn't get hurt when Brad makes his move."  
  
To Schuldrich's overpowering surprise, Nagi looks truly hurt by the words spoken to him, and in a blind flurry, the young boy rushes towards his older teammate, and wraps frail arms tightly around the German's waist, hugging him like a small child would hug his mother.  
  
Schu holds stunned and rigid, at an utter loss.  
  
"Please...please don't go back to him!" Nagi cries, holding so firmly, it is difficult for Schuldrich to breathe. "You know what he's doing is wrong. You just want to go back because you think there is no other place for you to go, but you're wrong. Stay here. Stay with us. I don't...want you to go..."  
  
Unable to return the gesture, the red-head merely stands stiff, shaking his head. "What's the deal? I thought you hated me..."  
  
A sudden shuffling of feet from the same corner Nagi had come from draws Schu's attention away, while the smaller boy continues to hang on for dear life, sobbing softly against his chest.   
  
Stepping into the light, Farfarello joins the reunion, looking just as unreadable as Nagi first had. "And I thought you could read minds." the albino whispers, repeating the same phrase he had once spoken long ago, and that so many others seem to pick up on. "You should know how he really feels. You should know how I feel, too, but somehow, I don't think you do."  
  
Schuldrich doesn't know what to say. The last time he saw his teammates they were so different. Nagi always so melancholy and quiet, barking to be left alone. And Farfarello forever the masochist, hating God and every one of God's creatures to the point of insanity.  
  
Could the strange women living in this house be so powerful, they changed the unchangeable?  
  
Continuing to look on with dumbfounded features, Schu watches as Farfie reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a very familiar accessory. One that - though the red-head hardly wears it anymore - oddly means so much to him. It is the faded, yellow bandanna he had been robbed of.  
  
"At the time, I didn't understand why I wanted it." Farfarello explains, stepping forward while fingering the cloth in his hands. "But I do now. I wanted something to remember you by. To remember how I felt when I was with you, even if I didn't believe in feelings anymore." the Irishman pauses to place the bandanna in Schuldrich's hand. "You said we were friends once. Did you mean that?"  
  
"We are more than just friends." Nagi pipes in softly, muffled by the folds of Schu's unbuttoned shirt. "That's what you can never see, even if you do look inside our minds. We are all each other has. Family. To Hell with what Crawford wants! All *we* really want is to be together, not to hurt people anymore. We don't need to."  
  
Trembling from far more than just the medication surging through his veins, Schuldrich slowly places his hands around Nagi's small frame in reply to those meaningful words, looking up at Farfie - so close to them - with watery eyes.  
  
"Give these women a chance. Give Weiss a chance." the albino pleads. "I know it feels strange, but deep in your heart you have to know that this is what you really want. Freedom."  
  
A daring tear slips down the flustered German's face as he holds tighter to his diminutive friend, and looks as if he is about to reply to the words of both his companions, using true honesty for the first time in a long time. However, the words don't quite get out before...  
  
"AHHHHH!!!"  
  
Piercing throughout the apartment, an echoing screech has emitted from the room Schu just recently escaped from. Clearly, Hiromi has awakened, discovering that her charge is no longer where he should be.  
  
Instantly, the thunder of many approaching feet begins to come from all sides. Two alarmed red-heads appear from within Aiko's room; Toto, Amaya, Youji, and Omi all pop in at the end of the hallway that leads into the living room, with Ken and Nori close behind since they had already been on their way upstairs; and Hiromi wildly slams open her door with a horrified expression.  
  
"HE'S GONE!!" she screams, just before realizing that *he* is actually standing right in front of her, with a blushing Nagi attached to his waist, and an amazingly calm Farfarello right beside them.  
  
The gathered crew is thrown into silence, looking on in disbelief and confusion at the scene before them, wondering what to make of it, and what to do next.  
  
Turning his jade gaze on all of them, Schuldrich eyes the onlookers carefully, wondering what to do himself, but with a heartfelt glance at Farfie, and the chibi holding onto him, he can't help smirking. He has finally made up his mind.  
  
"So..." the sly red-head begins, in a strengthening, nasal voice. "Anyone have any ideas for a plan?"  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The plan no longer matters. Now, he is the only one who can carry out the mission.  
  
A few minutes ago, the most disturbing vision Brad Crawford has ever seen drifted into his mind. Every last one of his loyal follows is now against him, and there is nothing he can do to bring them back.  
  
Obviously, this news didn't cross the American all too well, and after savagely wreaking havoc upon what was left of the cell in the basement where Farfie once lived, and the small quarters that so recently belonged to Naoe Nagi, he is now thrashing madly about in Schuldrich's room, tearing it apart.  
  
"Traitors!" Brad bellows, smashing Schu's mirror against the wall. "They think they can betray me?! I made them what they are!!"  
  
Never before has the infuriated, young man lost control so completely, but his outrage certainly makes up for all those lost years.  
  
Pulsing with rage, Brad leaves the damaged bedroom behind him - after firing a grim bullet through Schuldrich's pillow - and heads for the time-shift room, like a dimension all its own. The computer blinks at him as he enters, still displaying the remnants of last night's work on the screen, while the ancient text stolen all those days ago lies on the desk in front of it.  
  
Toiling diligently, Brad has been deciphering its archaic language in order to use what he needs of it when the time comes. His work is nearly complete now, and the day of reckoning is approaching.  
  
Despite his fueled anger, the dark-haired American grins evilly at the open tome in front of him, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Soon...all of them will pay." he rants feverishly, snatching up the book. "Even on my own, I will not fail. And there is nothing Weiss, Fluesternd, or those double-crossers can do to stop me."  
  
In the weak lighting of his surroundings, Brad's bronze-colored eyes glitter dangerously, and a laughter far more frightening than Schuldrich's cackle ever could be rings throughout the room, signaling that the fate of the world is about to be decided.  
  
  
*****A/N***** Wasn't the Schu/Farfie/Nagi moment beautiful? And Brad loosing his cool? Gotta love it. Also, what do you guys think of 'Emery' for Schu's real name? I forgot to ask before, but I really like it, and feedback is always welcome. Whoops, I didn't give translations for the German in the last chapter, did I? Well here ya go. The first part, before the flashback: ...no...Father...please stop...please -- ...nein...Vater...bitte halt...bitte... Second, after flashback: ...voices...only voices...I am alone... -- ...Stimmen...nur Stimmen...Ich bin allein... Aiko's words: Peace, my child. -- Frieden, mein Kind. And finally, what Schu said at the beginning of this chapter: ...help...someone...anyone... -- ...Hilfe...jemand...jeder... And: ...go away...lea...LEAVE ME ALONE! -- ...fortgehen...la...LASSEN MICH ALLEIN! OK, that's everything. Hope you're liking...AND REVIEWING!! Next, what to do about Brad, and something very special for Ran. :-) Smooches! 


	17. 17

*****17*****  
  
  
Make a wish.  
  
Hard to choose what you want, isn't it? If your heart could be granted its dearest desire in the space of a single, hopeful beat, what would it get? I know what I would wish for, but this isn't my story.  
  
The heart is a peculiar thing. Most of the time it doesn't even know what it truly wants. It yearns, and longs, and pounds up in our ears day after day, but as for what it needs and what it is beating for, the answer isn't an easy one. Bluntly put, there is something almost all of us have in common, even if we don't realize it.  
  
We're lonely.  
  
Not just for family, friends, or even that special someone, but for something else. Something we can't explain. It is as if we are incomplete - hallow. We are missing some vital part to our survival, and we don't even know what it is.  
  
What we are missing can't be put into words, because it is different for all of us. Whatever it is, it is something we have to figure out for ourselves, and only when we finally discover what it is our hearts are truly waiting for can we be whole, as we were meant to be.  
  
And once we are made whole, anything is possible.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Over the horizon so many miles away, endlessly far, the sun is only just beginning to spill its warm rays of golden light over the city, painting amber and violet hues on the few clouds littering the sky. At last, Spring is forcing the final remnants of chill away, as Summer approaches quickly behind.  
  
With shades thrown open to allow the glorious morning inside, the living room is abuzz far earlier than it should be. Though the inhabitants eventually crawled their way into whatever beds were available the previous night, it is pretty understandable that none of them were able to get much sleep.  
  
Droopy-eyed but diligently struggling to meet the day, everyone is spread out in the living room, having decided that talking things out in the kitchen again would have been nearly impossible now that their number has reached a clean dozen.  
  
"Alright, if we're actually gonna try and think up a plan to stop whatever Crawford is plotting, we need to know at least some of what is really going on."  
  
These logical words have been spoken by Youji, leaning over the back of the couch, and directing his words at the latest addition to their crew more than anyone else.  
  
"We may have been kept in the dark about most things." Farfarello offers from his perch near the window. "But if anyone knows what Crawford intents to do, it's Schuldrich. That is...*if* he is really going to help us."  
  
All eyes naturally fall on the still very uncomfortable and sore German leaning against the wall next to the hallway, most with little faith and little trust in what the red-head will offer. He knows full well how all of them see him - after all, he can read their minds - but despite the countless mistakes and regrets he has piled up in his past, for once he believes he is doing the right thing, even if he has his doubts.  
  
(I hope I know what I'm doing...)  
  
"Yeah, I know what Bradley's planning." Schu comments matter-of-factly. "But something tells me, even if I do fess up, you're not gonna believe me."  
  
"Have a little confidence in us, Emery." Aiko's low-toned, graceful voice calls from her claimed seat on an overly-cushioned chair. "I think we would all like to hear what you have to say."  
  
Of anyone in the room, Aiko - as always - trusts the untrustworthy the most. Even more than Nagi and Farfie do at the moment. Schuldrich is well aware of this, and spans his gaze over the room, catching his companions' stray thoughts before deciding how to proceed.  
  
He is met with exactly what he expects - minds filled with disbelief and fear - but also with something he didn't anticipate: hope.  
  
Ignoring what the little voices in each of their heads are telling them, every last person in that room is hopeful in what the future may bring, willing to give even the most deceitful member of Schwartz a chance at redemption. To Schuldrich, it really is an inspiring discovery.  
  
"I don't think I can get used to anyone calling me 'Emery' again." Schu admits, with a half-smile playing over his features. "But I guess there are alot of things I'm going to have to get used to if I'm actually going through with this." Sighing deeply, he eyes his former teammates warily, but comes to the same conclusion again and again. Hard or not, this is what he has to do. "Simply put, Brad intends to destroy the world, using the book we stole back on that first night we met up, and channeling your darling Aiko's power to carry it all out. That ancient text, or whatever, is a spellbook. Actually, the little incantation we used on Fujimiya's sister for our 'indestructible spell', was supposedly taken from its pages. No doubt Brad plans to use that one first, which will make fighting him loads of fun, but the real threat is in the spell he has been deciphering ever since we got the damn thing in our possession. That spell is used to amplify inner power. So, in laymen's terms, boys and girls, he plans to boost Miss Firefly's pyrokinesis so high, it'll wipe out the world in a wave of flames. And he will be the only one able to survive it."  
  
Stunned silence within a thick and suffocating atmosphere. Then...  
  
"The world shall be destroyed in fire and ice..." Farfarello chants in a strange, monotone voice, stepping forward. "It makes so much sense. The ice age was one, and this will be the next. It truly will be the end of the world."  
  
The dawning of this truth springs young Nagi to his feet as well, leaping up from the couch with wide, comprehending eyes. "No wonder he wouldn't let me do the computer work!" he exclaims. "I can't believe this is what he wants! I know we've spent years causing so much pain, all in the final hope of bringing about this very end, where only the truly powerful can survive, but...to actually do something like this...it's insane! How could we have let this happen!"  
  
"Because when people are hurt and angry, they do stupid things." a soft, female voice calls from a spot on the floor. Amaya sits with her emerald eyes distant, speaking more sensible and direct than ever thought possible. "So you screwed up. Big deal! What matters is that we are here now, and we're going to do whatever it takes to stop Crawford before he can cause any damage. Besides, as long as we have Aiko with us his plan can't work anyway. Right?"  
  
Her words offer more than a ray of hope, they offer rational, peace of mind, and inspiration for what can truly be accomplished by even this small band of mismatched players.  
  
Beaming over at her short and powerful friend, Aiko stands regally from her seat, breathing in deeply without a trace of fear in knowing that the one thing capable of destroying the world is locked up inside of her.   
  
No, she is not afraid. She sees no reason to be. After all, the odds are now twelve against one, and there is no way any of them would allow their treasured leader to fall into enemy hands.  
  
"Arigato, Amaya, for setting us straight. And you, too, Emery, for joining our ranks, and realizing that you are not alone in your struggle for discovering your true self." the red-haired, young woman expresses passionately, more confident in their cause than ever before. "I know we can succeed now. We must. So let us begin, and spend the day gathering all the information we can, stocking up on whatever supplies we may need, and simply preparing ourselves for what we must soon face. Brad Crawford is still out there, and we must capture him if there is to ever truly be an end to this. Do whatever it is you need in order to be ready, for tomorrow...we strike."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The clock is just striking 8am, and the hallway is as empty as the cloudless sky outside. A clock on the wall keeps time with a steady, eerie rhythm, looming between two bedroom doors, and reminding all passerbys that there is one constant in life. Time moves forward, and time cannot be fooled.  
  
Intent on reaching his room at the end of the hall, hoping to gather together his assassin gear from the back of the closet, Ran enters the barren space, lit dimly as the sun fights to peak its shining face into the building.  
  
A moment of whimsical nostalgia crosses his mind, contemplating the irony of what he is about to do. No longer can he wear the white coat and accompanying articles as he had grown accustomed to in recent nights - for they had been destroyed in the explosion - but now he must once again dawn the deep purple leather of days long past.  
  
Before retreating into hiding, and taking Aya-chan, Sakura, and Momoe to the safety of Villa White, Birman and Manx had shown up with the boys' old clothes for the occasion. Where the irony comes in...well...that is in knowing he will end this path the same way he began walking it. Nothing could be more right.   
  
Unfortunately, his tread to the guest room will be halted before he reaches the safety of its closed door.  
  
"You're such a loner, Fujimiya. I can't believe those girls managed to rope you in along with the others."  
  
Ran freezes mid-stride, forcing the shiver of recognition that dances across his spine to go away, and turns to face the familiar figure coming up behind him. "What do you want, Schuldrich? I'm not in the mood for your games."  
  
"Who said anything about games? I was just trying to be chatty." the smirking German throws back, casually resting his lithe frame against the wall. "You know what I think? I think the real reason you're working with Fluesternd isn't just for the good of the group, or your teammates, or the salvation of your soul, or even for that dear sister of yours. No, the real reason...is how much you fancy that gorgeous creature who just so happens to resemble you like some twisted reflection. And what's really twisted, is how it's almost as if you've fallen for...hehe...yourself."  
  
The darkening expression in Ran's eyes, the thin line of his lips, and the dangerous sound of his haggard breathing puts a slight scare into Schuldrich, which is exactly what Ran is going for. "I refuse to try and win a war of wits against you, because I know there would be no point in it." the scowling red-head speaks slowly and with purpose. "You have read my thoughts, and I accept that, but unless you want to suffer the fate I still believe you deserve, than you better shut up about things you only think you understand."  
  
With a grunt of indignation, Schu commands his grin to stay in place. "Calm down, I wasn't looking for a fight. You're the one who's swooning, after all." he dismisses. "A quick peak says you had a little intimate moment last night, eh? Dancing? That must have been a laugh riot." Looking Ran over - up and down - Schuldrich begins circling his companion as he speaks, as if assessing something he has already figured out. "Even after that dazzling display, you're still convinced nothing is going on between the two of you. Can't fool me, though. I was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of your evil intentions..." he laughs lightly, slipping up close to Ran from behind, and whispering in his ear. "...and in my experience, a man doesn't do those kind of things to someone he considers a mere business partner...hehehe..."  
  
Deciding not to put up a fight in a battle he knows he can't win, Ran merely goes blank, staring forward, and replies in a voice barely audible. "That moment wasn't for you, and it wasn't right for me to have, either. Whatever I believe, I know that much. You are nothing but a sick, corrupted man for taking advantage of me like that, no matter what Korat thinks of you!"  
  
Spinning around abruptly, he pushes Schuldrich to the side, continuing down the hallway without looking back.   
  
The startled German hadn't truly meant to push things as far as he had, however, and calls out instantly to stop the retreating, younger man. "Fujimiya, wait! I know I beat around the bush like a jackass when it comes to these things, but I really do have a couple of things to say to you."  
  
Surprisingly enough, Ran turns to face Schu once again, folding strict arms across his chest and waiting expectantly for whatever will be said. That is about as much as Schuldrich can hope for.  
  
"For whatever it's worth, I'd like to offer some friendly advise." he starts off, smiling almost genuinely, but with the usual glint of deviancy in his jade-colored eyes. "Yeah, I've seen inside your messed-up head, and I know how you really feel about Aiko. Problem is, *you* don't know how you feel. Figure out what the hell you want and go for it already! Push her up against a wall and kiss her in a way that'll make her glad to be a woman. That's how you handle a situation like this. Ya got me?"  
  
Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, Ran lets out a short laugh of his own, rolls his eyes, and then moves as if to head to his room, as he has been trying to do for quite some time.  
  
"Oh, and Fujimiya?" Schu calls one last time, causing the other red-head to stop, though this time he doesn't look back. "For what it's worth, and this time I know it ain't worth much, I really am...at least a little...sorry...for what happened. I thought you should know that, though I'll admit, I really don't know what the hell's going on inside my own head right now. Still, I'll keep the patronizing down to a minimum. Promise."  
  
Moving gently forward, Ran slips into his room with little acknowledgment to Schu's words, but takes a moment to cast one final, appreciative glance at the green-eyed monster as a sign of at least something passing between them, even if it is hardly perceivable.  
  
Left alone to his own devices, Schu smiles to himself, feeling unbelievably at peace for some strange, damn reason, and whips out a cig from the pack in his pocket, searching for his lighter...to no avail. Frustrated, he checks every pocket and hiding place at least twice, before grunting angrily in defeat, sucking pitifully on the end of his unlit cancer stick.  
  
"Perfect. I go and lose my favorite lighter just when I really need to light up. What's this world coming to?"  
  
"I think the world's just fine." a new voice answers him unexpectedly, as an energetic, young girl with turquoise hair and eyes skips her way into the hall from the living room, holding up a silver engraved object in slender hands. "You're not supposed to smoke inside, Emmy-chan. You should know better than that."  
  
With a flabbergasted look, 'Emmy-chan' does a quick double take at what Toto is holding, forgetting the adorable nick-name for a moment. "Hey, that's my lighter, you little brat! Hand it over!"  
  
Obediently, she tosses it into his waiting hands, eyeing him with disapproval until he begrudgingly puts both the lighter and cigarette away. Then smiling contagiously, she hops over next to him, giggling with childlike curiosity. "You don't smoke nearly as much as Yotan used to, but it's such a yucky habit. I should've kept that thing." she laughs, making Schuldrich increasingly uneasy. "I know you don't like me too much, Emmy-chan, but I just wanted to let you know how happy I am you're helping us. It means so much to Nagi-kun that you're here."  
  
Before Schu can react, Toto pecks him lightly on the cheek and then dashes off back down the hallway. Nevertheless, she doesn't get very far before whirling around, beaming with excitement.  
  
"Ne, Emmy-chan, I just remembered!" she exclaims. "Nagi told me what the others saw in the basement. Isn't it strange? I guess we have something in common, after all."  
  
Schuldrich starts a little at this, looking wide-eyed back at her, before smiling subtly in reply. "Yeah...I guess we do."  
  
As Toto disappears from view, Schu distinctly hears a brief conversation start up just around the corner.  
  
"Nanami, have you seen Schul...I mean...Emery around? I need to talk to him about something." Hiromi's distinguishable voice inquires.  
  
"Hai! He's right down the hall, Nee-san."  
  
"Arigato."  
  
(I must be everyone's favorite person today.) Schu ponders with a sideways smirk, waiting expectantly for Hiromi to find him. In the space of heartbeat, she appears, eyeing her quarry appraisingly as he stands poised and nonchalant, like some master of seduction anticipating his chance to strike.  
  
"There you are. Not causing any trouble, I hope." the curvaceous blonde speaks teasingly, putting a hand to her hip.  
  
Schuldrich chuckles a little under his breath. "Not at all. I've been saving that for you. Is it just my imagination, or do you rarely get the opportunity to match wits against someone of equal caliber?"  
  
"Rarely? You're quite right." she smiles cleverly in reply. "But I doubt any new opportunities are in my future with you around."  
  
Ouch. How enticing.  
  
"All jabs aside, however, I have something very important to explain to you." Hiromi expresses, embodying a much more serious demeanor. "Aiko's really the one who came up with it, but she thought - for some strange reason - that *I* should be the one to tell you."  
  
Curiosity perked, Schu tilts his head questioningly, narrowing his gaze. "I don't know if I like the sound of this. What, are you going to keep me tied up and gagged to ensure I don't pull a double-agent act on you?"  
  
"Of course not!" his counterpart cries indignantly, with an authoritative whip of her golden hair. "This is a good thing. I was thinking...maybe...that you might be having a hard time dealing with your power. So...I asked Aiko if she knew of anything we could do to help you keep it under control."  
  
"And what gave you the idea that I needed help?"  
  
"Oh, nothing really. Just the extent to which you used it recently, the way you completely broke down last night, everything I've heard from the Weiss boys, what I've read in your file, and the natural conclusion that having other people's thoughts rushing into your head all the time might just be a bit more than one person can handle on his own." Triumphant smirk. "Need I go on?"  
  
The dead silence that follows informs Hiromi that she has said enough.  
  
"That's what I thought." she states with an air of superiority. "Anyway, to get back to what I was saying before, Aiko came up with an idea of how we can help you. Ready to be a good boy and listen up?"  
  
Though forever the control-freak, hating that someone has so much more sway in conversation than he does, Schuldrich resolves to give her his complete and utter attention. After all, how often does someone walk up to you with information on the one thing you have desired all your life.  
  
Release...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
(...release?) the weary German contemplates whimsically, staring hard at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. (I don't know if this trick will do anything, but if it actually works, I'll have to remind myself to thank that little vixen. Somehow...)  
  
It hadn't taken very long for Hiromi to explain the procedure Aiko and herself had come up with, but rather than giving it a try right then and there, Schu decided he would prefer to attempt such a feat in private. After all, no one likes having someone else witness their failures, and what Schuldrich is about to do has about a one-in-a-million chance of actually working. Nevertheless, there always is that chance.  
  
(I just need to relax before I plunge into this.) he figures, achingly pulling off his button-down shirt that he had been forced to wear to bed the night before, and continuing to undress as he gets ready to hop in the shower. (What if it does work...? Heh. I wonder what it's like, being alone inside your own head. Brad never even bothered thinking of a way to help me, even when I'd wake him up screaming in my sleep...)  
  
Smiling mournfully, Schuldrich lowers his head, lost in thought and standing unmoving and naked on the tiled, bathroom floor. There is something so heart-wrenching in addressing an addiction you have so recently given up. For Schuldrich, his was a dependency on Brad Crawford: being taken care of, having his strings pulled, listening to someone else tell him what to do.   
  
But now...he has to live without that.  
  
Taking in a cleansing breath, Schu turns on the showing and steps over the edge, mechanically pulling the curtain closed behind him. The water is warm and soothing, massaging his sore muscles that are still so very fatigued from the relaxants he had been injected with. Thankfully, the others have agreed to let this batch wear off without giving him another shot. Such trust, however, will quickly fade should Schuldrich prove to be less reformed than he claims to be.  
  
(Okay...hot shower...quiet...privacy...let's give this a try...)  
  
Closing his jade-colored eyes, the slender German leans his head back under the water, feeling the relaxing warmth wash over his tangled, sunset hair, and digging deep into the recesses of his own crowded mind.   
  
Rather than giving in to the many voices, or even picking out a single one to focus on, Schu imagines them as if they were the people themselves. He pictures a vast crowd on one end of a large, stark-white room, with himself alone on the other side. They are all screaming at him, crying, laughing, whispering, clamoring to get closer and drown him in the sheer mass of their number. Taking Hiromi's advise, however, he thinks of a brick being in his right hand, senses the weight pulling his arm down, and analyzes the texture, the feel, as well as the way it looks - a reddish-brown tool of salvation.  
  
The brick is the most important part of this exercise. He must use it to begin building a wall, all the while seeing himself put more and more of them into place with his own imaginary hands, erecting a barrier between himself and the many faceless voices who have now been given form.  
  
One by one he begins the long, tedious process, concentrating hard on ignoring the invading multitude of people, and adding to his wall until it stands high and solid in front of him.  
  
Outside of his mind, Schuldrich's body has slumped against the side of the shower, breathing heavily, while the water continues to cascade over his body, wrinkling his pale skin. On the inside, his inner body is breathing just as heavily. Nonetheless, he is smiling in both forms, for never before has he known such peace.  
  
With the wall in place, all those many voices are held at bay. They are still there, of course, on the other side, but a door has been placed in the center of the barricade to let them in only at his discretion.  
  
For the first time in his life, the little boy that grew into such a troubled man knows what silence truly means.   
  
In sheer disbelief, Schuldrich opens his eyes, staring blankly at the stream of water hitting the far wall. He straightens, turning back towards the faucet, and moves to rigorously wash his hair and body, so he can get out before turning into a prune now that his task is completed.  
  
Despite his urge to finish quickly, he still takes the time to momentarily return to that white room with the large brick wall, and walks forward to slip back the lock on the door. Opening it wide, he summons forth a particular blonde, and finds himself thrust into her mind the moment her inner persona walks through it.  
  
(Thanks for the tip, Gorgeous.) he purrs into Hiromi's thoughts, catching her off-guard as she sits combing through her long, wavy hair from a seat on her bed, and causes her to clumsily drop the brush onto her lap. (I owe you one...)  
  
All Hiromi answers with is...(I'll hold you to that.)...before smiling beautifully, satisfied levity left imprinted on her heart.  
  
After all, it does a soul good to help another.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
There are very few ways to save another's soul. There are even fewer ways to save your own.  
  
Within the darkened quarters of his borrowed room, Fujimiya Ran is setting out his antiquated assassin gear. Even the katana is an older one - his first - but he finds his stomach churning as he looks at it, remembering that this is where it all began. With these clothes, this weapon, he walked down the road to damnation and barely found the detour back home in time to save himself.  
  
Actually, he didn't find it at all. Some unexpected travelers found him, and showed him the way back. Thank God for them. Thank God for *her*. If only this could be finished without having to ever wear that long, leather coat again, or those gloves, or with that sword held in his hands. If only Brad could be changed as the others seem to have changed. But sadly, that outcome doesn't seem very likely to Ran.  
  
The red-head sighs, fingering the fitted handle of his katana, though without lifting it from the sweet safety of the bed. Why must all great things end and begin in bloodshed...?  
  
"Ran-niichan...?"  
  
Devastatingly startled by the sound of that impossible voice, Ran instantly whirls around to face the door, and his amethyst eyes catch sight of the one person he most wanted to see, and yet hoped beyond all that is sacred he would not. "...Aya..." he whispers, stone-still as she enters his room and closes the door behind her. "I don't believe it. What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at -"  
  
"Villa White. I know." she finishes, smiling sorrowfully up at him while walking further into the room. "Don't be angry. Sakura is the only one who knows I'm here, so I have to be quick. If Manx, Birman, or especially Momoe found out, they'd be worried sick."  
  
Though truthfully delighted at seeing his sister's sweet face gazing so lovingly back at him, Ran wears an expression of anxious hostility, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. "*They'd* be worried!?! You could have gotten yourself killed coming back here! Why do you think I hid you away? We are so close now...if I were to lose you..."  
  
"Gomen nasai, Oniichan. I know it was foolish, but I had to see you." Aya expresses deeply, reaching up to grasp those powerful hands on her shoulders with her own, and bring them down to hold tightly in front of her. "It's almost over. Don't you see? This might be...the last time I ever get to see you. I have complete confidence in everyone, of course, but...it's just...anything could happen, you know? And...I didn't want to miss what might be my last chance to tell you...I love you."  
  
Like a block of ice left to the mercy of the warm, Summer sun, Ran's resolve melts away right before Aya's eyes, and his own violet irises shimmer with the onset of tears. Stubborn or not, it is impossible to be mad at someone who only wants to be with you. Impossible. "Aya...I love you, too...so much..." he breathes, enveloping her in a sudden embrace she gladly returns. "But I promise you this will not be the last time we see each other. When this mission is over, everything is going to change. No more secrets, or sneaking around, or keeping each other in the dark about anything. We can be a family again. A real family, with no monsters chasing us in the night, and no ghosts haunting our dreams. I promise..."  
  
Holding each other so close, one might think their heartbeats synchronized and began beating to the same rhythm. Locked in each other's arms, an oniichan's chest and an imoto's shoulder are damp with tears, but neither care. They need this.  
  
At long last, Aya pulls away, and grins playfully up at her brother as she reaches into her pocket and pulls something out, keeping it hidden in the palm of her hand, and waiting for Ran to extend his own in acceptance of it.  
  
Silently, he obeys, but as the glittering objects fall into view, he touches them delicately, looking back at Aya with a furrowed brow. "I don't understand. Why are you giving these back to me?" he questions, if not a little pained.   
  
She has given him the golden earrings he once bought for her, having worn one himself for so long, and recently having given Aya and Sakura one each, to wear as an unspoken promise to both of them. "You gave these to Sakura and myself to remind us of you." Aya explains, serious and heartfelt all in one. "To remind us that we are loved and protected by our 'big brother,' since you see both of us as your 'little sisters.' Well, with everything that has happened, and what is about to happen, we decided you needed them more than we do. We want you to wear them, Oniichan, to remind you that *you* are loved and protected, too. And...if you really want to...you can give them back to us after it's all over. As long as you promise we will get them back by your own hands, and only yours. Wakarimasu ka?"  
  
Taken pleasantly by surprise in all this, Ran smiles his graceful, rare smile, and immediately begins to put the earrings back in their rightful places. "Wakarimasu, Aya-chan. I'll wear them proudly, but you will have them back again. I swear to you."  
  
The fate of far too many lives, too much happiness, lies in the balance now, and no one should ever have to suffer the pang of emptiness in having their dreams crushed.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Even the tiniest dreams long to be fulfilled. An aching need, a purposeful longing, can overtake a person's senses and lead them down a road they may never have believed they would find themselves down again.  
  
Walking slowing, step by step, and listening with almost obsessive intent to the sound of his footfalls, Ran stares vaguely at the sidewalk as he makes his way down the street. Few words were expressed to the others as he left, after making sure Aya was safely on her way back to Villa White, but he felt the need to take his leave once she had gone, though he isn't entirely sure why he is heading where he is. It is just somewhere he needs to be.  
  
One more block to go; he can already make out the towering building, and its close proximity is a comfort, not only for the need of getting there, but to escape the oncoming rain he can smell so keenly in the gentle breeze.  
  
The stone steps are reached, but before he begins his ascension, Ran casts a longing look up at the symbol above him, looming from the rooftop. Oh, how well he knows this symbol, for it represents two areas of his life that are so separate and unalike the irony causes him to smirk ever so slightly.  
  
There is no second guessing or change of heart in this matter, so the anxious red-head climbs the stairs and enters, noting the peaceful darkness and gentle glow of candles lit for the lost - lit for the hopeful.  
  
A pair of small doors, side by side, rests off to his right, and he moves to the one nearest him, knocking gently to be sure it is empty before entering the tiny chamber himself. He sits down on the small bench within, gazing purposefully at his feet, while an odd window near his head slides open for conversation.  
  
"What can I do for you, child?" asks a tender voice, empowered with understanding.  
  
Quivering lips, pale in the shadows, release a deep, audible sigh. No one would have a prayer at guessing how long this is going to take, but the desire, the necessity of fulfilling this treasured obligation is enough to push Ran in the right direction, and he at last begins to speak. "Forgive me, Father...for I have sinned..."  
  
Outside, sheltering herself from the rain that has just began to fall, Aiko stands beneath a shop's overhang, watching the church door with fond, glittering violet eyes. She is perhaps the smallest bit guilty for having followed her stoic twin without his knowledge, but the peace, the pride she feels for Ran in this step he has taken brushes all of that aside.  
  
It certainly isn't the most intelligent idea the lovely girl has had recently - given her track record for unfortunate events that stalk her whenever she is on her own - but she wasn't thinking about the risks. She was thinking about Ran. She was curious.  
  
What is it they say? Curiosity killed the kitten...  
  
"...Here, kitty, kitty..." echoes a whispering, deadly voice from behind Aiko, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end as the intruder's breath dances over her skin, and firm, powerful arms wrap around her body, with a forceful hand covering her mouth. "These streets are dangerous at night. Don't you know better than to go out all by yourself? You never know when someone - perhaps a man whose plans you have foiled and friends you have stolen - will find an opportunity to repay your kindness. Hmmm...Korat?"  
  
Aiko isn't going to be granted the chance to answer her captor, for before she can even think in response, the world around her begins to fade black. Brad Crawford is no amateur, and he most definitely is no fool. He is merely a little - just a bit - on edge, and his hand cleverly holds a cloth in the palm, with a timely substance soaked through it to knock his prize unconscious.   
  
The game is in his court once again, and things are about to get interesting...  
  
  
*****A/N***** Ok, that was a good chapter. Tenderness, humor, Schu's evil tendencies. I love it! And I hope you did, too. Next, what has become of Aiko? Also, the beginning of the final showdown with Braddy-kins. And...you get to find out the last of my many hidden secrets for these beloved characters. That's right, Brad's inner workings are the last to be revealed, and you are about to get a first hand look. Woohoo! Keep reading, and I grovel for reviews. :-) 


	18. 18

*****18*****  
  
  
Do you believe in happy endings?  
  
I don't. Why bother? There are no happy endings, because nothing ever ends. Not really. Not forever. There are simply shifts and changes in life that signal new beginnings, while the old and familiar continue to survive in some form, even if they are already dead.  
  
What about our valiant heroes then? Will their shift be a happy one, or will the world come crumbling down around them in a perilous inferno? Don't ask me. Why would I know the answer? I merely follow the path the players lead me down, for they are the ones who shape their own existences. Not me.  
  
Life is funny that way. The only person responsible for our lives is ourselves. We have to learn to face what hits us, and fess up to what we throw back. It may not be easy, but who ever said it would be? Why would we even want it to be? There is no challenge in the mundane.  
  
So how do we move forward?  
  
One step at a time. One day at a time. Looking straight ahead without regrets, and accepting the company of those who are destined to walk beside us. That is the only thing we can do, because the rest is up to fate.  
  
Why do I not find that reassuring...?  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Okay, here's the plan: we go to where Crawford took Aiko, get her back before he can carry out his plans, and come back here to celebrate our victory. Who's with me?"  
  
Quizzically, the others eye Youji with varying degrees of amusement and annoyance, deciding whether or not he has lost his mind.  
  
With a serious expression, Nagi steps over to the adamant blonde, and speaks very clearly. "That is a course of action, not a plan. Of course we are going to get Aiko back, but we have to figure out how we are going to do it."  
  
"Oh." Youji mumbles with downcast eyes, realizing he has gotten ahead of himself. "I was getting to that."  
  
"Can we focus a little, please? The world is on the verge of domination, remember?" Hiromi speaks impatiently, from her spot in the middle of the floor. "First off, we have to think of how we are going to take Crawford out of commission in order to get Aiko back at all."  
  
Leaning against an arm of the couch, Ken crinkles his brow. "What's there to think about? There are 11 of us verses one of him. Do the math."  
  
"Actually, it would be 10 against one. I want Toto to stay here."  
  
A brief moment of silence strikes the room as the occupants' eyes fall on the turquoise-haired young woman, and on her protective, better half who has addressed them.   
  
Toto isn't too pleased with Nagi's suggestion, however. "I want to come, too!" she cries indignantly, placing clenched fists furiously on her hips.  
  
Moving back across the room, Nagi pleads with liquid eyes for his cherished treasure to understand his reasoning, looking her full in the face to ensure the girl's complete attention. "I know you want to be there, Toto, but if I have to worry about what might happen to you, I won't be able to concentrate. I'll make mistakes. I might even cost someone their life worrying so much about yours. I can't risk that. Please, just stay here."  
  
Anxious patience hangs in the air while Toto begins to protest several times, but always stops herself before she can, and eventually concedes with a disappointed nod. At least there will be one less person risking their life tonight. That is, if what the others come up with succeeds at all.  
  
"Well, that takes care of who shall be going tonight." Nori states with authority, acting as leader in Aiko's absence. "But we still have one more problem to address."  
  
"And what's that?" Schuldrich sneers, seeming more uncomfortable around everyone now that his betrayal is about to be played to the end.  
  
"Abyssinian." comes the navy-haired beauty's reply, quite sourly in confronting Schu's demeanor. "We have no idea where he went. I assume Aiko was taken because she followed him. However, all we have to go on is the note Crawford sent us, and it says nothing about Fujimiya Ran. We have to find him first."  
  
Click. Slam.   
  
The door below has opened and closed behind whomever has dawned to join the rest of the group. Almost immediately, familiar feet begin treading up the stairs, and while everyone stares fiercely at the landing, the bishounen in question arrives, shaking out his brilliant, red hair from the rain falling outside. No one says a word as he enters the room, looking them over with just as much scrutiny as they are giving him.   
  
Ran frowns, deeply and with little patience for their quiet, nervous looks. "What?" he grimaces, scowling darkly, though there had - for the briefest moment - been the most significant look of peace on his features when he first came up the stairs. Now, unfortunately, tossing his gaze over the room, Ran is once again his harsh and rigid self, and notes the missing member of their oversized group as if being hit by an unexpected jolt of electricity. "Where is she?"  
  
Silently, Nori holds out her hand, displaying the letter that had been left on their doorstep a few minutes earlier. Ran snatches the paper away, and reads:   
  
/The fiery kitten is in my possession, and the world is about to receive an overdue makeover courtesy of Brad Crawford. If you feel the need to throw your lives away before the end of the world, feel free to try and get her back. I am sure Schuldrich will be happy to tell you where I am./  
  
Crumpling the note in his hand, Ran's fists clench dangerously tight, and to look at him would be to watch every muscle of the human body tense and tighten right along with them. "How...?" the incensed red-head breathes, glaring in turn at everyone around him. "Tell me how he was able to take her away right under your noses? Answer me that!"  
  
"Calm down, Fujimiya. Little Miss Firefly wasn't even here." Schuldrich gives in answer, looking more disappointed in Ran's behavior than fearful. "Surprise, surprise, she was out tailing *you* when Bradley took her, so don't go blaming us."  
  
This information throws the sour-dispositioned young man for a loop, and a very unpleasant one at that. "She...followed me?"  
  
"It doesn't matter! The point is she's gone and we have to find her!" Amaya shouts, on wits end at the length and pointlessness of this conversation - in her view, anyway. "Can we just get the lead out and come up with a plan before we waste any more time?"  
  
As always, it has taken a raised voice to still the room, and dear, sweet, analytical Omi grasps the opportunity to fill Ran in on what they know, and what they believe can be done to avert the oncoming apocalypse. "This isn't as bad as it seems." he begins, rising from the couch, with the gears spinning in his head so quickly one might think you could almost see them. "Schuldrich knows the location of the final ritual Crawford needs to perform, we have until midnight before he can begin - which is still a few hours away - and we outnumber him by...alot. This should be no sweat."  
  
"Wrong. This is Crawford we are talking about." speaks Farfarello's low, hypnotic voice, so oddly calming. "We already know he plans to cast a spell that will make him indestructible for at least as long as he needs to carry everything out, and that probably isn't the only fail-safe he has to ensure success."  
  
Okay, so this isn't exactly the most reassuring news, but it is practical, and definitely something that needs to be considered. Most of them, however, could care less about the consequences.  
  
Throwing the note to the ground at last, Ran draws the others' attention, and stands tall, with the fire of determination and courage glinting in his amethyst eyes. "It makes no difference what we are up against. We will go wherever we need to, stop Crawford at every turn, and bring Korat home, no matter what the cost, or what it takes. Understood?"  
  
Furtive glances are his only reply, for no one dares speak against him, and no one truly wants to. They know what they have to do.  
  
"All right then, get yourselves ready. As soon as everyone is set, we leave."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
The most mismatched crew in recorded history has arrived on the scene of chaos, but everyone is most definitely not set. How could they be? This may prove to be their last mission. This may prove to be the very end Brad Crawford is striving for.  
  
There is little time left before the deadline of destruction, and the many members of a group without any uniform name to call themselves by stare nervously up at the tall, plain building before them. It isn't much to look at. No windows, a single door, four walls, and a flat rooftop with only one set of outside stairs leading up to it. Nothing out of the ordinary if you were a passerby merely passing by. However, if you knew the truth of what lies inside, your view would be much different.  
  
According to Schuldrich, the spot on which this 'warehouse' has been built is sacred ground; a pressure point on Earth's surface where mystical energy naturally gathers. Japan has many such areas within its borders, but this was the one Brad chose, and this is where the showdown will take place.  
  
"So now what? Do we just walk in through the front door?" Ken asks incredulously, fidgeting with his hands, while the claws shoot out with every clench of his fists.  
  
"This is the only way in." Schuldrich replies dryly, straightening the bandanna tied fittingly around his forehead. "Besides, the element of surprise isn't a factor. He already knows we're here."  
  
Omi steps forward to work the door, assuming it will be rigged or locked in some elaborate manner, but discovers it opens easily with a simple turn of the handle, welcoming them inside. Not a one of them finds comfort in the simplicity, for it simply means that Brad does not see their interference as a threat.  
  
Nevertheless, one by one they slip inside, tensing in the dim lighting, and gazing down the long hallway in front of them, leading to the single, large room that Schu explained resides within. Boxes line the walls all the way down, where a small rectangle of bright light signals where their destination lies. As far as they can see, all they have to do is make their way there.  
  
Too easy.  
  
"I don't like this." Youji comments, revealing what all of them are thinking, as they make their way down the hall in close-quartered groups of two or three. "Are you sure this is the right place? 'Cause either we're way off, or he's got a really good plan."  
  
"This is the place." Schu replies, one of the few leading the pack, in between Farfie and Ran. "And yeah, I'm sure he does have a really good plan. Let's just hope ours is better."  
  
Onward they walk, but before reaching even half-way, the crew suddenly halts their approach, as those in front spot something - someone - coming from the room at the end of the hall. No one says a word, though a few questioning whispers pass amongst them, and truthfully, no one knows quite what to say when the person coming towards them becomes all too recognizable.  
  
"Aiko!" Amaya exclaims from the back of the line, having one of the most obscured views of her, which explains the quick assumption.  
  
All of them can clearly see that it is indeed Rosuto Aiko nearing them, but something is definitely out of place. Aiko's steps are slow and liquid-graceful, almost inhuman. Her eyes are closed, despite her attentive posture, and her face is washed blank and lifeless. It isn't a pretty picture, nor is it a reassuring one.  
  
"What's wrong with her...?" asks Omi's timid voice, standing next to Amaya in the back.  
  
"Korat, can you hear me?" Ran calls with worried anticipation, as Aiko's feline-like movements come to a halt, and she pauses a few yards in front of the others. "What has he done to you...?"  
  
As if drawn in, Ran takes a hesitant step forward, but is held back by one of Farfarello's powerful arms. "Don't. She isn't herself. I can feel it."  
  
"Feel what?" Nori barks, positioned just behind the three young men in front. "She is right in front of us and we are standing here like idiots! Schuldrich, can't you just read her mind and tell us what is going on?"  
  
Intently, the German eyes Aiko's rigid and deadened form, going quite blank himself the moment he enters her mind. "Nothing." he whispers.  
  
"Nani? You mean, you can't read her?"  
  
"No. There simply isn't anything there to read."  
  
Unearthly silence washes over the group, and they stare on, gazing painfully at the figure they do not know how to explain nor face. Thank goodness their questions are about to be answered...I think.  
  
"Hahaha..." echoes an unwelcome, deep, and familiar timber, emanating from the room down the hall, while seeming to come from all around them. "Don't you like my new doll? I made her especially for you. Hahahaha."  
  
"Crawford..." Ran growls, unsheathing his katana in a masterfully agile and flowing move. "What have you done to Korat?! Answer us! Now!!"  
  
"So impatient, Fujimiya. It is merely one of the benefits of that book you allowed me to steal." answers Brad's booming voice, while the others desperately search for its true origin. "A golem spell to keep my new toy under control. I am afraid she is at my complete disposal. Whatever am I going to do? Hmmm...perhaps a little playtime?"  
  
The undertone of underhanded cruelty flickers easily throughout Brad's tone, and each and every one of them tenses in alert, eyeing Aiko in fearful apprehension. If she attacks them, how can they possibly fight back?  
  
"Oh Korat..." Brad continues, perking the mechanical red-head's attention. "Destroy the intruders."  
  
Flash. Amethyst eyes spring open, revealing something quite unexpected. In truth, they are no longer brilliantly violet, but are devoid of any iris or pupil at all. They are a glowing, inhuman white, with no emotion - no compassion - beaming from within or without. If this wasn't enough, Aiko's small, pale hands obediently begin rising from her sides, as sparks of glowing fire form above her palms, until becoming two balls of flame awaiting victims.  
  
"GET DOWN!!"  
  
On Hiromi's scream of command, the many members of the group dive off in different directions to find shelter amongst the many stacked boxes against the wall. It isn't much for cover, but it is all they have, and they are quite thankful for them as those two balls of fire strike where they had just been standing.  
  
"This can't be happening..." Nagi mumbles desperately, hiding behind a pile of boxes with Amaya and Omi. "We can't win, can we? The very person we are here to save is going to burn is alive."  
  
"Stop that!" Amaya cries, whacking the young brunette on the shoulder. "Thinking negative won't get us anywhere. I refuse to let that stuffed shirt, Brad Crawford, take over the world. Do you hear me!?!"  
  
The boys eye her with equal degrees of awe and fear, taking comfort in her authority. After all, it is much harder to lose hope when those around you refuse to give up.  
  
"Anyone have any bright ideas!?!" calls Ken's frantic voice to the others, in hiding with Ran and Nori up front, while shot after shot of flames strike nearby.  
  
Huddled with Youji in a row just behind Ken's group, Hiromi suddenly sits up straight, struck by a plan of attack. Motioning for Youji to move over closer to the wall so she can be near the edge, she calls across the hall to where Schuldrich and Farfarello are stationed.  
  
"Hey, Emery, remember how you said you owed me one?!"  
  
Returning her words with a hopeful smirk, Schu calls back. "How could I forget?!"  
  
"Well, I think I'm going to call in that favor now!"  
  
"What do you need me to do!?"  
  
"Just watch my back!" she replies, grinning across the space that separates them. "And keep up with me! If you can!"  
  
Wasting no time, Hiromi unexpectedly dashes out from behind the boxes, rushing forward with a speed almost impossible to follow with the naked eye. Instantly, she begins to draw Aiko's fire, but the moment Schuldrich appears, moving nearly as fast on the opposite side, the powerful red-head suddenly has two very swift targets, neither of which she seems capable of hitting.  
  
"Are they out of their minds?!" cries out Youji's panicked voice, left alone in his hiding spot.  
  
Across from him, Farfarello smiles. He actually grins to himself while whispering a reply only he can hear. "I think they know exactly what they are doing..."  
  
Back and forth, Hiromi and Schuldrich sprint ahead across the hallway, leading Aiko further and further down, and successfully avoiding each of her attempts to hit them. Realizing what their comrades are up to, the others cautiously move out from behind the boxes and make their way down the hallway as well, being sure to keep an eye on the back of Aiko's head should she suddenly turn back around and decide to turn them into kindling.  
  
/All right, Gorgeous, please tell me you've got a plan for when we reach that room in front of us./ Schu speaks into Hiromi's mind, as both are rapidly nearing the opening.  
  
/Well, I didn't actually think that far ahead. Got any ideas?/  
  
/What!?!/  
  
BOOM!  
  
Far too close to Schu's head, an explosion of sparks and fire strikes the wall just as he flies through the opening at the end of the hallway, side by side with Hiromi, and followed far too closely by Aiko's deadly figure.  
  
The main room of the building is much more elaborate and intriguing than the outside or hallway had indicated it would be. The ceiling looms high above them, everything is painted a blinding white, and in the center, a gold and silver alter has been erected, surrounded equally by computer panels and stations with occult symbols and lighted candles. It appears Brad is all set up and ready to go.  
  
/Okay, if you don't have a plan, then listen to mine./ Schu begins, dodging Aiko's continued blasts. /Keep her occupied till the others get their asses in here, and try not to get killed in the process. Got it?/  
  
/Works for me./ answers Hiromi, while ducking behind one of the computer stations just in time to avoid being struck.  
  
Schu, however, is on the opposite side of the room, drawing Aiko's fire away from her, and is - unfortunately - not close enough to anything that would make a good barricade. Also, his speed isn't quite up to par after so many hours with muscle relaxants pumping through his veins, and he suddenly trips, hitting the floor hard enough to knock the wind rushing out of his aching lungs.   
  
"Emery!" Hiromi calls, popping up from behind the panel.  
  
Aiko's attention, however, is fixated on the gasping young man sprawled out on the floor in front of her, as he painfully turns over onto his back, cringing at the burning spasms shooting through his limbs.  
  
"Guess I couldn't keep up with you after all..." he wheezes, glancing past Aiko at Hiromi's stricken features, before facing his eminent demise in the form of that flame-red hair, and those flaming hands.  
  
The fire in Aiko's palms pulses, though the look on her face is just as lifeless as ever. She raises her arms above her head, but just as she is about to strike, a blurred image of white hair and pale, scarred skin, flashes past, knocking her to the floor.  
  
Surrounding them, the others begin filing in through the door, raising their weapons, and hardening their determination, while Farfarello struggles to hold Aiko down. She is too much for him, as hard as it is to believe, and her strength overwhelms his, until she finally forces him off, sending him tumbling to the side.  
  
Having rushed to Schuldrich's aide, Hiromi helps the battered German to his feet, Farfie swiftly gets back to his, and everyone closes in around their empty shell of a friend, while Aiko stands herself, filling her hands with powerful flames once again.   
  
It is a standoff, but a dreary one. Aiko is now programmed to attack no matter what, but the others are not. Luckily, they will not be forced to make the difficult choice presenting itself.  
  
"Korat!" calls that all too familiar voice from somewhere above them. "Stand down."  
  
The fire is extinguished, and everyone turns out to survey the room in order to discover where Brad is hiding. Off to the far right, a white staircase leads up to a landing, where - low and behold - Brad Crawford stands perched and proud, leaning forward against the railing. He is dressed all in white, fittingly enough; white trousers, a neatly tucked, white, button-down shirt, undone just enough, with a long, white trenchcoat flowing simple and open down to his white socks and shoes.  
  
"I was hoping you would be foolish enough to come." the American sneers, slowly making his way down the stairs. "I expected no less. Tell me, Farfarello...Nagi...Schuldrich. Have you enjoyed your time with the enemy? I hope so. It is about to be cut short."  
  
"Can it, Brad." Schu grimaces, shaking off the remnants of fatigue. "Stop being so damn cool and collected. That stick up your ass is really getting on my nerves."  
  
Dangerously, Brad throws Schuldrich a look that could whither a tigerlily. "You all think you have me, don't you? Hahaha. How amusing. Don't get me wrong, I was a little put off by your betrayal, but I'm better now. After all, there is nothing you can do to stop me. We have only a few minutes until it is time, and Aiko is mine to control. Also, as I am sure you anticipated, I have cast a little spell to keep me protected from your attacks. So, there really is no way for you to win."  
  
"If I remember right..." Ken begins, stepping slightly forward. "...even with that spell, we could still fight you, hurt you, and knock you around, whether it had lasting affects or not. I'd say that's good enough for me."  
  
On those brave, angry words, the clawed brunette rushes forward, readying his weapons, and slices at Brad with powerful force. Surprisingly, the young American makes no move to get out of the way - doesn't even flinch - and with good reason. As unbelievable as it may seem, Ken merely bounces right off Brad, being sent propelled through the air to hit the ground hard on his back.  
  
Brad tosses his dark hair with a contented, cruel laugh. "I've upgraded." he states simply, and causes his opponents to tense up much more than they had been only seconds before. This situation isn't looking too good.  
  
"You son-of-a-bitch! I won't let you use Korat this way!" Ran snarls, tightening the grip on his katana. "Let her go!"  
  
"I am afraid I can't do that." Brad replies smoothly, sauntering closer to the group, and reaching grandly into his coat pocket to reveal a sleek revolver he pulls out to point menacingly at Ran's forehead, and a flash of sinister light glints over his glasses. "You see, the only fate for a killer is to die. And you, Fujimiya...are a killer."  
  
BANG!  
  
No, not the shot of a gun going off, as you may have feared, but the overpowering resonance of a sonic boom. Brad is knocked off his feet, his gun sent flying, and everyone is forced to cover their ears, grimacing at the aftermath of that piercing sound. The only person left unaffected is Amaya, holding perfectly still and strong, with her arm outstretched - the one bearing her fitted crossbow - and wearing an expression of deadly serious triumph.  
  
"What the hell was that?!" Youji cries, shaking his head to rid himself of that awful ringing in his ears.  
  
Omi, on the other hand, is a bit more intrigued and knowledgeable. "So that's what your armband is for. I thought it shot real arrows, but it was a blast of sound instead. I didn't know you could do that."  
  
Lowering her arm, though keeping an eye on Brad's momentarily stunned form attempting to rise from the ground, Amaya smiles, throwing back her raven hair, and sends Omi a playful wink. "Hey, there's more to soundwaves than just silence, you know?"  
  
Recovering quickly, the group spreads themselves out more evenly around Brad's fallen figure, watching as he painstakingly tries to get back to his feet, though after receiving the brunt of Amaya's attack, it isn't an easy task.  
  
"You...fools!" he gasps, glaring up at all of them. "You still won't be able to stop me."  
  
"For Christ's sake, Braddy, shut up!"  
  
Caught of guard by that harsh, feminine voice, Brad turns towards the direction it came from. Nori is the one who addressed him, and who now approaches with steady, determined steps. Oddly enough, Brad finds her intimidating. Out of all the other members of Fluesternd, she is the one he has gotten the least glimpses of. Actually, he hasn't ever fully laid eyes on her at all, as if she has purposely been avoiding him.  
  
"And which one are you...?" he breathes, eyeing her carefully, especially the dark, navy curls of her hair. "Braddy...? Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?"  
  
Kneeling beside him, Nori's expression is almost one of pity - sadness. "Don't you recognize me? Many years have passed, but I still recognize you."  
  
The others around them are eyeing each other with awkward, confused looks, but one out of the many wears a face of revelation. Ken. He understands, though he can't believe it. He alone understands who Brad Crawford truly is.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Brad replies to Nori's questioning. "I've never met you before."  
  
"Oh Brad, how naive you are." she answers right back. "You really don't remember, do you? Well, I can take care of that..."   
  
Fluidly, Nori raises an arm towards Brad's face, moving in to touch his cheek. At first, the beaten young man flinches away, but something in the way she looks - the curve of her jawline, the silver of her eyes, the ringlets of navy hair, and the thin, delicate smile - freezes him in place, awaiting the cool touch of her hand.  
  
"I am going to show you who you really are...aniki."  
  
WHOOSH!  
  
  
*****A/N***** HA! Bet ya didn't see that one coming, and Braddy-kins sure didn't either. Well, next you are going to get to see what that dream of his was all about, and you will get a first hand look at his past with Nori. As for Aiko...you'll just have to wait. *evil cackle* 


	19. 19

*****19*****  
  
  
Forget.  
  
Each of us, everyday, forgets far more than what we remember. Most of the time it is the stupid, little things that slip our minds, but every once in a while we lose something important.  
  
I am one of the many with a selective memory. I can remember a night in my crib when I was only 6 months old or younger, but sometimes I forget something I was told to do yesterday, and failed to do today.   
  
Some of us lose our memory completely, perhaps only for a short time after some unpleasant head trauma, or perhaps forever from something more serious and irreversible.   
  
Amnesia.   
  
We have all heard of it. Frankly, I'm scared to death of it. I cherish every memory inside of me, and to lose any one of them would be devastating. Even the bad ones are valuable, because if we forget the harsh times of the past we are doomed to repeat them.  
  
The worst, of course, would be to forget the wonderful, irreplaceable moments of pure happiness and joy and...feeling like the world has purpose and everything is going to be all right.  
  
What then can be done for someone who forgets their entire childhood of beautiful memories and good times?  
  
Simple. He has to be shown what he has forgotten.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Smells of lilacs and freshly cut grass permeate the air, the sun shines down gently with only a handful of puffy, white clouds in the bright, blue sky, and the breeze blowing up on the hill is light enough to refresh without being harsh enough to annoy.  
  
Gazing out at the landscape below, a 13 year old Brad Crawford stands near the top of the hill, peeking through the few trees scattered nearby. Though he feels somewhat detatched, the sweet, melodic laughter of his little sister carries him back to reality.  
  
Turning to face the very top of the hillside, Brad catches sight of his dear sibling, watching as she spins about to soak up all the wonders around her. Navy curls bounce against her shoulders, long and full for such a young and vibrant 5 year old, and he is instantly drawn to her, treading up the last few yards to join in on the fun.  
  
"What are you giggling at, Noria?"  
  
Pulled from her daydreaming, Nori stops, and slowly peeks over her shoulder to grin back at him. It's odd watching her face him as he makes out the shape of her features in the sunlight. He feels a curious sence of triumph, as if in being able to see her face he has beaten the odds against something forgotten.  
  
"I'm just giggling 'cause I'm having fun, Braddy." the young girl calls back, rushing over to grab her brother's hands and make him dance with her in the grass. "Play ring-around-the-rosie with me!"  
  
Laughing right along with her, Brad obeys, twirling her around and singing the familiar, childhood game. Despite being such a suave and independant teenager, Brad always finds the time to play with his little sister, and the bond they share will always be important to him.  
  
Sadly, their fun is about to be cut short, as Brad suddenly jolts forward with a sharp intake of breath, falling to his knees.   
  
The scenery around him fades, and instead he begins to see images of a car speeding down a highway, as if a movie projector has began rolling from the inside of his eyelids. He recognizes it as his parents' car, and clearly sees his mother and father in the front seats. James Crawford, an American businessman, is driving, with his wife, Yuki Crawford, a Japanese artist - formerly Kei Yuki - riding beside him. As they continue down the road, without warning or hope for intervention, a semi suddenly comes barreling towards them, the driver apparently asleep at the wheel, and it crashes head-on into their vehicle, sending Brad roughly back into his own time and space at the sight of impact.  
  
Visions like this have struck him before, but never have they been anything as serious or vivid. He has always dismissed them as nothing, and is compelled to do the same in this case. After all, it is only a figment of his imagination.  
  
"Braddy, are you okay?" Nori's little voice calls to him, while his eyes readjust to their surroundings. "That was scary."  
  
"Don't be scared, Nori. I'm all right." he assures her, getting to his feet, and smiling down at her fretful expression. "I think it's about time we headed home, don't you think? Wouldn't want Mom and Dad to get worried."  
  
"Okay, but it's follow-the-leader on the way, and I get to be leader. Deal?"  
  
"Deal."  
  
At home, a few hours later, the Crawford parents have gone out for the evening, leaving Brad at home to babysit. The two children are still up, watching Nori's "Rainbow Bright" tape for the millionth time, and have lost track of how late it is getting. However, when the doorbell rings unexpectedly, Brad glances at his watch, and realizes just how much time has passed. Their parents should have been home by now.  
  
"Is there something I can do for you, Officer?" young Brad asks as he opens the door, greeted by a solomn looking policeman.  
  
"Yes. Tell me, Son, is this the Crawford residence?"  
  
"It is."  
  
"I'm sorry, my boy, but I'm afraid I have some bad news..."  
  
FLASH.  
  
Three years later, Brad Crawford is doing a little fancy foot-work inside a boxing ring, sparing with an opponent far more on the higher end of his light weight division than he is. Nonetheless, Brad is holding his own quite well, and has a reputation as one of the most promising, amatuer boxers around.  
  
Cheering her brother on from the sidelines - practically hanging off the side of the ring, Nori stands with a grin on her lovely face from ear to ear, while constantly pushing her new glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. She hasn't gotten used to them yet, and they are a bit too big since she had insisted on getting the same frames as her brother.  
  
"Come on, Braddy, knock his lights out!"  
  
SMACK!  
  
"1...2...3...Crawford wins again!"  
  
Having gotten used to the smell of blood and sweat all too well, Nori bounds forward without a second thought to wrap her little arms around Brad's waist as he retires to the side, hugging him for all she's worth.  
  
"Give me a break, Noria, you're crushing my ribs here." he teases, collapsing down on the stool in the corner, and reaching for the water bottle at his feet. "Save the celebrations for a real match, okay? We don't want to get ahead of ourselves."  
  
"I know. I just love it when you win! You're the best." Nori giggles, still hanging tightly to his arm.  
  
With a large, contented grin, Brad reaches over and tousles her hair with his glove. "Just remember, I'm doing it all for you. This next match is worth a lot of money to us, and the rent's coming up soon. I'd hate to have to sell you to make ends meet."  
  
"Oh Braddy, you're such a kidder. But you like boxing, right? I don't want you to do anything you don't have fun doing just to make sure I have school supplies and stuff."  
  
Brad laughs lightly, and carefully helps Nori out of the ring so he can head for the locker room. "Don't worry, Noria, I love it. I may not be able to do it forever, but it's good enough for now. I'll have to get a normal job before I'm 18 so they'll let me adopt you for real, but we'll make it."  
  
"Of course we will! 'Cause we're Crawfords, and Crawfords always win." Nori recites with a large smile, following Brad down the hallway to the locker room, though she knows she will have to wait outside now that she isn't so little anymore. However, before he can slip inside, she grabs hold of Brad's arm, and looks up into his bronzed eyes sheepishly. "Ummm...Braddy? We'll always be together, won't we? I mean, you won't ever leave like Mom and Dad did, right?"  
  
His smile wavers, and his eyes droop a little lower, but Brad puts on a strong resolve as he kneels beside his sister, holding her face in his hands. "I promise, no matter what happens, I will never leave you." And ever so gently, he pulls her closer to kiss her forehead, and the smile they share is nothing short of dazzling.  
  
FLASH.  
  
"Happy Birthday, Noria! I can't believe you're a teenager already."  
  
Four years and a few months after Brad's unfortunate promise, he and Nori are celebrating her 13th birthday. Every year, the Friday or Saturday before, she has the customary bash with her friends from school, but the actual day is always reserved for family. And, after all, they are the only family each other has.  
  
Glowing pale and beautiful in the light of the candles on her homemade cake, Nori closes her eyes tightly, makes a wish that will never come true, and blows out the tiny lights with as much force as her little lungs can give.  
  
"Wow, for once you didn't pull the old 'trick candles' gag. I can't believe it." she grins, watching her brother slyly as he cuts eagerly into the cake.  
  
Brad merely returns her pointed look, teasingly holding a large, frosting-covered slice in front of her. "I figured you were too old for that. But I guess that means you're too old for cake, too, huh?"  
  
"What?! I don't think so! Gimme that!"  
  
The two giggle, fighting playfully over the piece of cake until Brad finally gives in and allows her to snatch it away. If one thing can be said about them, it is that they know each other better than anyone else ever could.  
  
"Braddy...you'll always be my brother, won't you? Here...with me. We'll always be together, right?"  
  
Again and again, day after day, Nori yearns for the same confirmation, and everytime Brad offers his somber, yet loving smile, and gives her the same answer. This time, he smiles as usual, but just as he opens his mouth to speak...an unseen force suddenly brings him to his knees, and a vision unlike any he has ever experienced wracks his crumbled body.  
  
Standing small and alone in the ruins of what was once their home, Nori is crying a bitter, heart-breaking sob. Her clothes are torn and tattered, dirt is collecting beneath her fingernails, and far too many scratches and bruises cover her frail form. The image is a horror, an impossible future that he knows is only the space of heartbeat from beginning.  
  
A nightmare given truth and foundation in reality.  
  
As unexpectedly as it came it is over, and Brad is jolted back to himself, breathing heavily on the kitchen floor, and feeling the tentative weight of his sister's hands on his shoulders.  
  
"Brad, are you all right? Did you have another prediction?" Nori asks in concern, sounding almost excited to hear what her brother has seen, though deeply worried by how forceful his visions can become.  
  
After the actuality of their parents' demise, Brad began taking his visions more seriously. Mostly, they are only precog reflexes, which is what makes him such a success in the ring, but occasionally he is struck by a more powerful and important message of what is to come. His gift has saved them from muggings, dangerous storms, boxing matches he wouldn't have had a chance at winning, and countless bad test scores that were salvaged by studying a little harder the night before.  
  
Nori herself has also shown signs of psychic ability, but is still unaware of just how far her powers go. The real mystery is how they acquired powers at all. Their parents never mentioned anything, though their mother often seemed a bit more mystical than most, so they assume the time to tell the truth simply came too late, and their parents died before they could explain everything.  
  
"Brad! I asked if you were okay. Is something the matter?"  
  
Having much difficulty facing what his gift has revealed, Brad is unable to find a voice as he sits unmoving on the floor with Nori hovering beside him. Not wanting to worry her, however, he forces a false smile, and tries to offer what solace he can. "I'm fine, Nori. It was just so sudden, that's all."  
  
"Well, what did you see...?"  
  
"Nothing! I mean...nothing important." he lies, rising to his feet, and returning to the task of cutting a slice of cake for himself. "Just an annoying salesman we'll have to avoid tomorrow."  
  
Being just as perceptive, if not more, than her brother, Nori doesn't buy this story for a second, but asks her question again, sensing that it needs to be asked. "Brad...tell me we will always be together. Please."  
  
Smiling as genuinely as he can, though clearly pained by something he refuses to share, Brad lies again. "Of course, Noria. Nothing could ever break us apart. I love you, and I will never leave you. I promise."  
  
Later that same night, Brad is tossing and turning on his bed. The evening was marred by his uneasiness, despite the fun they had, and he cannot shake the feeling of fear clawing at his skin through the covers, demanding he pay attention.  
  
For over two years he has been Nori's legal guardian, but no matter how much time passes, or how much older they both get, they still need each other. He doesn't understand what that damn premonition is supposed to mean, and he doesn't want to understand. Nothing - NOTHING - could ever take him away from Nori, leaving her all alone like that. He promised her. He promised...  
  
Hehehe. Don't you just hate it when people speak to soon...?  
  
CRASH!  
  
Brad's attention is jerked away toward his window as something shatters the glass on its way inside. Before he can even sit up in bed, whatever has invaded his room begins emitting a thick cloud of gas that fills it in an instant. Panicked, Brad jumps out of bed, first going for the smoke bomb, then for the window, and almost for the door, in some hope at escaping or figuring out what is going on.  
  
His struggles are in vain, sadly, for just as he is at last reaching for the doorknob, the gas' affect on him takes full force, and he collapses to the floor, choking and coughing and...praying that Nori will be okay.  
  
The last moment before the world goes black, his final thought is left to echo silently into the night. (Noria...)  
  
FLASH.  
  
"Who are you?! Let me go!!" Brad screams, chained down to a metal operating table, with bright lights blinding his vision. If that wasn't bad enough, his glasses have been removed, so either way he wouldn't be able to make out his captors. "Why are you doing this to me? Where is this place? Please...my sister...I can't leave her alone..."  
  
Exactly how long he was unconscious before waking in this frightening situation, Brad has no idea, and that scares him even more than *where* he has been taken. If Nori wakes up and finds that he is gone, without a note or explanation, she will be terrified.  
  
"I would be more concerned with your own well-being, young one." the strange voice of an aging man calls from somewhere unseen. "Your sister will have to adjust to life without you, I'm afraid. You are a valuable commodity to us."  
  
"Yes." adds another voice, just as ancient, but feminine. "Hoho. Your powers will be of great use."  
  
"Once we have reprogrammed you." finishes a third and final figure, male again, though with slightly more levity than the first.  
  
Brad takes very little comfort in anything these strangers are saying, and only struggles more fiercely to escape his bonds, as well as the curious machines and instruments positioned near his temples. "My powers...? You mean my premonitions?" he calls, desperate to find some way to talk his way through this. "It's nothing. I can't even control them. They bring me to my knees everytime and are nothing but a nuisance. I don't even want them!"  
  
"Hohoho." answers the woman. "Who ever said you were meant to have complete control over such a gift?"  
  
"Only with our help will you learn to hone them properly, and use them to aide our cause." continues the first voice. "That is your purpose."  
  
"What are you talking about?!" Brad cries, overloaded and afraid, though far more worried about a certain someone else. "And what did you mean before - reprogrammed? I have to get back to Nori!"  
  
All three pernicious characters fill the room with coarse laughter, standing Brad's hair on end. "You have nothing to go back to, because in a few seconds, you won't remember anything but us."  
  
"What...?" Brad's faltering voice whispers to the air. "No...you...you can't do this! Nori!!" he cries, fighting hard against his chains as the gadgets around him begin to move and beep and light up menacingly in his face.  
  
"Your life belongs to us, Brad Crawford. *Estet* is more powerful than you, or anyone in this world. The earth is ours for the taking, and you are going to help us acquire it."  
  
Sharp, numbing pain shoots through Brad's temples and rings inside his head. Memories like flickers of light fade and snuff out while he desperately tries to hang onto them. Everything he has ever known is fading - lost - and the one thing, the final thing he knows he can never forget is washing away in the throng.  
  
"Nori...no...I can't forget you! I promised I would never leave you. I won't! I won't forget you! Noria!!!"  
  
WHOOSH!  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Noria!!!" a 27 year old Brad Crawford screams, released from Kei Nori's icy, powerful touch, as both are brought back to the world they now live in. A warehouse, a large crew of colorful characters, and the rush of returned memories.  
  
This time, Nori's powers played out normally, so she and Brad were the only ones to see what was shown, but that doesn't mean the others aren't aware of what has passed between them.  
  
"It's all right, Braddy. I'm here." Nori whispers, fighting back tears, and pulling him in against her as he openly cries on her shoulder, like a lost, little boy finally found. "All these years I never knew why you left. I kept thinking it was something I did, something I said, but...now I know the truth. You never meant to leave. It was those twisted fanatics with their monstrous intentions. *They* took you away. Oh, God, I have missed you so much..."  
  
Slowly, with reddened cheeks and bloodshot eyes, Brad lifts his head from her shoulder, and looks with trembling lips into her eyes, reaching up to touch the stray tendril of blue falling across her face.  
  
So desperately he wants to speak, but words get caught in his throat with each attempt. At last, he swallows hard, and forces out what needs to be said. "...pl...please...forgive me...I tried so hard...to hold onto your memory...but all I had left...was a dream I didn't understand...I didn't know...I didn't know..." And again the tears pour freely, without reserve, like some wounded dam blown apart.  
  
Standing in awe around the siblings holding and comforting each other, the others can think of little to offer themselves. The only one brave enough - foolish enough - to say a word is Youji, after catching sight of Aiko's barren shell nearby, still frozen in waiting for her next command.  
  
"Uhhh...as much as I hate to interrupt the tender moment...we still have a few problems to deal with over here."  
  
In their shared past brought to light so roughly and unexpected, Brad and Nori had nearly forgotten the others were even there, but Youji's words remind them of the night's events, and they sheepishly pull apart, helping each other stand to face the room.  
  
Wiping at his eyes, Brad looks to everyone in turn, lingering on the surprised faces of Farfarello, Nagi, and Schuldrich more than any others. "My mind is so jumbled...I...I don't know what to say." he begins, like a completely different person - gentle, soft-spoken, afraid - and as if he is starting right where he left off 7 years ago. "There is nothing I can say or do to take back what I have done, what has happened, what I left...behind. But...it's over now. I won't...try anything. I don't even know why I wanted all this in the first place."  
  
"I do." answers a shockingly tender, nasal voice.   
  
Deep down, Schuldrich has always been the one to understand his fellow teammates the best. That isn't very surprising, considering his power, but it is about far more than just seeing inside their heads. After all, he barely ever got to see anything inside of Brad's.   
  
"It's really not that hard to figure out. Those Estet freaks warped *your* mind, you warped *ours*, and then you betrayed them with your own insane ideas for a better world." the German smiles somberly, ranting away as if merely playing his part in some casual conversation. "The thing is, I think those ideas of yours were based on something even you didn't fully understand. *Her*."  
  
No one speaks a word in reply to this suggestion, the others still stunned into silence, and Brad busy thinking over what Schu is trying to say. It doesn't take him long to figure things out, though. Somewhere inside all of us we already know the answers to every question we have. We just don't know how to say them out loud.  
  
What a crazy world it would be if we did.  
  
"You're right..." Brad mumbles, almost too low for anyone else to hear. "In the back of my mind, I was searching for Nori all along. It makes so much sense!" In a flurry of movement, he faces his sister, grasping her hands in his own. "I wanted to create a world where only people of great, paranormal power could survive. Why?! Because whatever part of me still remembered you, that part wanted to find you again. And...if I did this...burned the world away...then I could. God...it all seems so pointless now."  
  
"Because it is." Farfarello voices suddenly, soft and contemplative. "But, as you said, it is over, and what was...was. We don't have to dwell on it, we just have to keep living despite it. Aiko taught me that."  
  
Aiko...  
  
Other than Youji's quick observation and voiced protest that became lost in the conversation, the hollow red-head had almost been forgotten.   
  
Almost forgotten, save the obsessive intent a certain other red-head appears to possess, while stalking around Aiko's frozen figure, tentatively reaching out a hand every so often as if to touch a glass statue that will shatter on contact.  
  
Ran and Ran alone engrossed himself in Aiko rather than the exchanges between Brad and Nori. He cannot look away from her; he cannot clear his mind; he cannot think of anything other than her.  
  
Every pair of eyes - or eye, as the case may be - turns to the scene of "twins", both like granite pillars, or blocks of ice. Cold, emotionless, silent, and eerily frightening and dangerous, Ran circles Aiko, having abandoned the others' discussion, and looking very lost and very, very intent on something none of them could possibly understand.  
  
"Aya-kun...?" Omi whispers, peering past the others.  
  
Ken takes the initiative, stepping in closer to the stoic assassin. "Ran...what are you doing? It's all going to be okay. Crawford's on our side. He's Nori's brother for Christ's sake. You're freakin' us out here..."  
  
In mid-step, Ran stops his pacing, and turns from Aiko to look back through the others at Brad, full in the face and right between those glassy, bronze eyes, with a look that could turn a burning building into a slaughterhouse freezer. "I don't care about family reunions." he growls, low and frightening. "I don't care about past memories, who is related to who, the redemption of anyone's souls, or even saving this damned, fucking world! You bring her back, and you bring her back now!!!"  
  
Beat. No subtle heartbeats here. More like a deafening thud after holding your breath.  
  
"I...I don't think I can..." chokes out Brad's reply, in pained disbelief at the horror he had nearly forgotten, over the life he has already destroyed.  
  
"Brad..." Nori begins, but only shakes her head at a loss, unable to find the right words.  
  
Hiromi, however, jumps right in. "Don't think you can?! What are you talking about? You put the spell, or whatever, on her, so you can take it off!"  
  
"Damn straight!" adds Amaya, pushing her way to the front of the circle surrounding Nori and Brad, though Ran and Aiko are still positioned off to the side. "Spells always have counter-spells!"  
  
Stumbling back a step, Brad's breathing becomes more and more labored. He has had to take in so much, and now reality is coming back to bite him on the ass. "It...it's not that easy. I didn't cast the spell to be reversed. I cast it...to last."  
  
"How long...?" little Nagi asks with large, watery eyes gazing upward, dreading the answer as much as everyone else.  
  
"...forever..."  
  
Silence again. What a surprise. This all feels like one big nightmare brought to life. Omi, Amaya, Nagi, and Hiromi all practically burst into tears; Youji, Schu, and Farfie are near enough for the three least likely to be moved to such ends; Brad is beyond comfort, abandoned to the force of accusing eyes; Ken wants nothing more than to offer even the slightest solace to Nori, who with masked features has moved through the others to stand beside Aiko, torn between her brother's mistakes and the fate of a woman who is so much like a sister; and Ran...Ran is purposefully heading for Brad...while slowly unsheathing his katana.  
  
"What have you done to her...?" he hisses.  
  
"The spell...was designed to suspend a person's spirit out of time and space..." Brad answers mechanically, barely audible, or understandable.  
  
"Then suspend her out of it."  
  
"I can't. I wish I could...but...there is nothing I can do. I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry!?!" Ran snaps, fully readying his sword for whatever deadly intentions he has planned. "You get back a few childhood memories, claim incompetence, and expect me to let you get away with 'I'm sorry'!?!" Swish - the air is cut. An audible gasp shoots up from the others as Ran brings his katana down, stopping just before making contact with the side of Brad's neck. "Korat is dead! I don't care if she is breathing, you killed her! Do you have any idea what it feels like to know that someone you care about is right there with you...but isn't really there at all? Knowing that she is trapped somewhere and can't find her way back no matter what you do? That she will never smile, or laugh, or cry, or anything ever again? Do you know what that feels like!?! Give me a reason not to kill you right now for what you have done. Give me one fucking reason!!"  
  
"I'll give you one..."  
  
The pressure of something hard and firm touches the small of Ran's back, as the only person with the courage to stand up to him right now comes to her brother's rescue. Holding her staff with steady hands, Nori remains rigid behind the enraged red-head, with dried and fading tears on her face.  
  
The standoff begins.  
  
"Forgive me if I do not find a piece of wood threatening." Ran glares, peering back over his shoulder.  
  
"Who ever said it was just a piece of wood?"  
  
Click. With a twist of her hands on the grip in the center of the staff, Nori's seemingly simple weapon becomes all the more deadly. From within the wood, sharp blades shoot out at either end, lining the sides.  
  
(I knew there was something more to that thing...) Ken ponders, struggling to keep a smirk at bay from how Nori has overtaken the unbeatable Fujimiya Ran.  
  
"Lower your weapon, Abyssinian." Nori commands.  
  
At first, the firm red-head makes no move at all, merely staring Brad down from the end of his blade, who himself couldn't be returning such a cruel look with anything more pitying.  
  
The world stands still - Ran ready to end Brad's life, and Nori just as ready to return the favor. This can turn out only one of two ways, and thank God Nori knows just what to say to help it turn out right.  
  
"Lower your weapon, Ran. You know Aiko would never want this."  
  
Defeatedly, Ran has no choice but to give in, and his katana falls back to his side, followed by Nori's staff returning to its harmless mirage.  
  
"Arigato, Ran." Nori whispers, touching a hand to his hunched shoulders. "There is another way out of this. Somehow."  
  
"Yeah..." sniffles Amaya, inching forward, now that the tension has broken. "Come on, there's gotta be something we can do."  
  
Agonizing but hopeful eyes look to Brad, who couldn't feel more out of place right now. "I...I can't think of anything. The only way to get back spiritual energy that is given up is by replacing it with an equal amount from someone else."  
  
Pause. The other 10 people in the room all have light bulbs go on inside their heads. There *is* a way to save Aiko then, but it would mean...  
  
"...someone has to take her place..." Hiromi voices, giving life to the truth they have all come to realize.  
  
"I will do it."  
  
And every one of those light bulbs over-burns and shatters, as each person faces Nori, who has so proudly spoken in willingness to give up her own life for the sake of a friend.  
  
Out of everyone, Ken and Brad tense and pale the most after this - Ken forced into silence, while Brad instantly finds a voice, grasping his sister's shoulders fiercely to turn her towards him. "Noria...you can't. I know you want to help her but...I have only just found you again. To lose you now..."  
  
"You won't have to." echoes Ran's voice above the rest, suddenly sounding very calm and determined, with his katana safely tucked away and his rage miraculously stilled. "Forgive me...for reacting the way I did. But...Nori was right before. This is what Korat wanted - for all of *you* to find peace, find each other. If anyone is going to take her place...it should be me."  
  
"Oh, will you all just give it a rest all ready!?!"  
  
Having once again broken the sentimental moment, Amaya stomps her way to the center of the group, hands on her hips, and commences scolding everyone - Ran and Nori in particular.   
  
"You're all hopeless! You know darn well the second we get Aiko back, no matter who volunteers, she's just gonna force us to switch it again." the pixie explains, as if the others must be complete dim-wits to have not realized this themselves. "Like she'd ever let someone else give up their life for hers. Gimme a break! Her whole purpose in life is to give her life for others. If we're going to save her, we gotta think of something else. I mean, I'm sure if we all work together we can -"  
  
"That's it!!"  
  
In a sudden dash across the room towards Aiko, Brad pushes the others out of his way, showing sparks of energy and epiphany in his eyes. Instinctively, everyone closes in around him, leaning in to get a better understanding of this unexpected behavior.  
  
"If we work together! That's what we have to do!" the converted American cries, barely controlling his excitement. "We need enough spiritual energy to equal an entire person, but it doesn't all have to come from *one* person. If I modify the spell to accept a little from each of us, we might be able to get her back without sacrificing anyone. I can't believe I didn't think of this right away!"  
  
"Wait, wait, wait...hold on a minute." Youji intercedes, casting a sheepish glance from side to side. "I don't mean to sound selfish or anything, but...what exactly would something like that do to *us*?"  
  
Despite all the faith they have in each other, and the love they have for each other, this logical question perks alot attention, the others just as curious to know what they might have to give up, even if they would be willing to give up anything.  
  
Waving his hand in dismissal, however, Brad merely smiles - to everyone's extreme relief. "Nothing. We might be a little fatigued, but it would probably pass by morning. Think of it like giving blood. It drains your energy for a while, but after your body naturally replenishes, you feel fine. It is only when you lose too much at one time that it becomes a threat. Understand?"  
  
"Sounds good enough for me." Schu pipes in, running an impatient hand through his tousled, sunset hair. "So, what do we need to do? Join hands? Think happy thoughts, while chanting 'Mary had a little lamb'? At this point, I'm up for anything."  
  
Glaring over the top of his glasses, Brad exhibits the slightest hint of his old, uptight self, raising an eyebrow in reprimand to Schu's comments. "Must you always add pointless nonsense to adult conversations."  
  
Schuldrich smirks in response, even chuckling a little. "Not always. Just making sure there's still *some* of the old Bradley left. I'd miss you too much if you went completely soft on me."  
  
If it is actually possible, Brad Crawford's stern features blush a little rosier, though he tries very hard to laugh the comment off. "Cute. Anyway, the holding hands part *is* necessary for focusing energy, but the rest I should be able to handle on my own."  
  
With every last person's eyes watching him, Brad moves back across the room to where that old, familiar book is lying open, and begins paging through it for the appropriate spell. Naturally, the members of Weiss find this a little unnerving, still somewhat hesitant in the trust area, though none of them choose to voice any objections.  
  
After a moment, Brad seems to be mouthing something to himself out of one of the pages, and without looking up, gives a seemingly harmless command. "Aiko, move to the alter."  
  
Instantly, Aiko obeys, walking briskly and mechanically over to the very center of the room, where an intricate design has been painted on the floor. This action comes across as a bit suspicious to most of the group.   
  
Taking a few nervous steps forward, Nagi speaks very softly. "Crawford...what are you doing?"  
  
"This better not be a trick." Omi adds, quite bravely, fingering the handle of his crossbow. "If you think you can still get away with carrying out your plan right under our noses -"  
  
"That is *not* what he is doing." Nori breaks in defensively. "I am sure he needs Aiko where she is because that spot is the most spiritually charged area in the building. It is necessary for the spell to work properly."  
  
Regrettably standing down, Omi casts his gaze away, but is still slightly on guard, as are the others. After all, each one of them has had to take a few lessons in trust lately, but that doesn't mean it has gotten any easier putting faith in someone who so recently tried to kill them.  
  
On Brad's end, he is too immersed in thought to even register what had gone on, and now looks up from the book with a slight twinkle of triumph. "I think I've got it. All I have to do is say the spell in reverse, while at the same time imagining the energy from within the circle we make coming from each of us instead of just one person. If we do this right, it should work."  
  
Focused and intent, he leaves the book where it is and moves to Aiko, motioning for the others to join him in surrounding her. Nori takes her brother's hand, adding to the circle first, followed by Ken, Ran, Farfarello, Schuldrich, Hiromi, Youji, Omi, Amaya, Nagi, and back to Brad, with Aiko standing in the middle of them all. The same lifeless expression rests upon her pale face, with the same eerily white eyes staring forward.  
  
"Close your eyes and focus all of your energy on Aiko." Brad begins, taking in slow, deep breaths, and holding tightly - with great need - to Nori and Nagi's hands. "Stay as quiet as you can...and pray for a miracle..."   
  
And on those words, every person's eyes shut, their lips sealed, and Brad begins to chant the spell he hopes to God will save Aiko, making her the last person he will ever hurt again.   
  
"...caligatio ad lux...niger ad albus...frigus ad calidus...obitus ad vita...ad vita...ad VITA!"  
  
A gasp rises from the crowd, one after the other, starting at Brad and working its way down the line. If their eyes were open, they would see what appears to be a translucent ball of light moving through each of them, growing brighter as it passes through, and gathering a small piece of each person's spirit.   
  
The moments after the shock of release as the energy moves through them is followed by such silence, they are forced to open their eyes, looking anxiously around at each other, until staring in wonder at the gathered brilliance hovering above Aiko's head.  
  
"VITA!!" Brad cries again, and the light plunges down, filling every fiber of their friend's being, her back arching, her arms outstretched, a silent cry rising up from her open mouth, and if all of that wasn't enough, the subtle levitation of her feet off the ground as the energy fills her.  
  
Ascending higher and higher, the young woman with such flowing, brilliant red hair, appears like some fae of fire floating on the wind - soft as a whisper.  
  
Gradually, when every ounce of tension is released, Aiko begins to come back down to Earth, the light dims, and just as her feet touch the ground once more, the illumination vanishes completely.   
  
Breaking from the circle, despite the powerful hands hanging on to each of his own, Ran rushes towards her, catching Aiko as she falls. Her body is limp, but pleasantly warm to the touch, unlike his forever cold and icy fingers.  
  
"Aiko..." he whispers, falling to his knees beside her, and cradling her in his arms. "Aiko...please...open your eyes and look at me...Aiko..."  
  
Around him, the air itself is still and quiet, like the many figures closing in around him, but Ran wouldn't notice even if the walls were crumbling down. Stray tears spill down his face, landing softly on Aiko's cheek as they fall, and causing her to twitch and stir from her slumber.  
  
Every breath is held in anticipation, as two beautiful, violet eyes, flutter open and look around, finding the sweet comfort of another pair of violets looking down into her own.  
  
"...you...called me Aiko..." the drained, but living and lively red-head grins, struggling to lift a shaking hand up to Ran's face, wiping a tear away. "...I like that..."  
  
And just as delicately, she drifts back into sleep, safely gathered in Ran's arms, and surrounded by her friends.  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
AHHHH! I can't believe 19 is done! I hope you like Brad and Nori's past - I sure did - and how I fit the whole boxing thing in there, since he is so darn good with his fists in the anime. Also, the Latin for the spell means this: Darkness to Light Black to White Cold given Warmth Death given Life Roughly anyway. Simple and to the point. As for the next and FINAL chapter, it shall be what I call a "clean-up" chapter, to fulfill what needs to be said and addressed. Every character will get their moment, and it will have a nice finished feeling. Well, sorta, I do have a little teaser of an ending, but not one that'll drive ya crazy. And no, there will be no sequels! All righty, peoples, see ya next chapter, and you better review or I'm not gonna finish it at all. Okay, I still will, I have to, but I'll be really mad. :-) Love ya! 


	20. 20

*****20*****  
  
  
Go back to sleep.   
  
In one way or another Fate will end up on your side. Don't fight it, just sit back and let it drive you forward, closer to the future it long ago planned out for you. What is meant to be will always find a way, and Fate is the navigator of every life. Embrace it.   
  
Okay, it isn't quite that easy. Despite everything, we still must continue to believe in that one, all saving truth:   
  
Hope.   
  
Hope can and will be snuffed out, but only if we let it. If we stop hoping, stop having faith in our destinies, then we will lose the path and find ourselves lost. Hope waits to be found, longs to be found, giving life to those who trust in it, those who look on the brighter side of life, and it will always be there when we need it.   
  
Close your eyes.   
  
Hope will wait for you to find it, and it is never too late to go looking. Remember, hope will only arise if summoned, whether you call out to it with a song, a scream, a thunderous bellow, or even...yes...even the soft, sweet call...of...whispering...  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Life has one constant: time moves forward.   
  
Though only a few weeks have passed since the fateful night that almost ended it all, so much has happened. Mainly, the many members of 3 newly retired groups have been busy rebuilding a favorite flower shop, unable to really relax or even just sit down and talk things out. In fact, Rosuto Aiko has been gone for the good part of a week on a very important errand, and the others are busily working - as usual - on the final repairs to "Kitty in the House."  
  
The grunt work has been reserved for the more robust members - Ken and Farfarello do most of the heavy lifting - but everyone is scattered about the shop as it becomes more and more like its old self again. The older boys and girls are hauling wood or pounding nails, the youngest are fixing up the simpler interior problems, and Nori - for some unknown reason - has discovered a curious love for power tools.  
  
Clink. Someone has entered what remains of the shop door, sounding very wounded without its customary "ding".   
  
Having skipped out earlier in the day, Kudo Youji comes sauntering in amidst the frantic workers, lazily leaning on the new countertop, and watching with interest while everyone else does their part. "Looks great, guys. Keep up the good work." he grins, accepting the many indignant looks thrown his way as if they were praises of valor.  
  
"Youji-kun, where have you been all morning?" Omi grunts, carrying a bucket and sponge, with a darling bandanna tied around his forehead to keep the hair out of his eyes. "And what's the bandage for?"  
  
Easily distinguishable on Youji's left arm, a large white bandage is covering his tattoo, as if he has recently gotten some unknown edition to it. The tall blonde merely smiles, catching Toto's eye as the boisterous young woman bounds her way over excitedly. Without another word, he pulls back the bandage for those interested in it to see, revealing what appears to be a row of numbers beneath his familiar cross and message.  
  
"What is that? A date?" Ken inquires, appearing from the back room with an armful of long, wooden boards. "That's a few weeks ago, ne? Why would you put that under your tattoo?"  
  
"Hee!" Toto squeals in response. "That was our day! Ne, Yotan?  
  
With a wink, Youji's puts the bandage back in place. "That's right, Nanami. This one's for you. After all...that's the day I learned."  
  
Omi and Ken exchange curious glances, but this little secret is just between Youji and Toto; the day she helped him remember who he is, and set him back on track. The others offer approving glances and comments in passing, but mostly they just want him to get his butt in gear and lighten their end of the burden a bit.  
  
"I know you have just had a needle prodding at your skin..." Nagi begins, while half-heartedly handing Farfie a screwdriver, without having to hand it to him. "...but we could use your help around here."  
  
"My help? Don't be silly. You've got everything under control without me fumbling around."  
  
A low grunt of disapproval resounds across the room. Clearly, someone isn't too amused.  
  
Getting himself down from a ladder on the far end of the shop, Fujimiya Ran makes his way to the counter where Youji is happily doing nothing, and hoping he can keep doing nothing for the remainder of the day. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call wishful thinking.   
  
As Ran approaches, the smile on everyone's favorite playboy is sent skittering away with the force of those blazing violet eyes speaking volumes without a word.  
  
Then again, he generally speaks volumes vocally, too. "Youji, get to work. When this shop has four walls again, then you can take a break. No excuses."  
  
As annoyed as Youji is by being bossed around, there are some people you just don't cross, no matter how much emotional growth they have gone through lately. Luckily for him, just as he is about to sluggishly pick up a hammer and nails himself, another figure disturbs the busy-bees, giving him an excuse for slacking-off.  
  
"Sakura! Just the bishoujo I wanted to see."  
  
Casting smiles and waves to the spread out crew, Tomoe Sakura works her way through the mess, fully ready to be put to work, and once again dawning one of those glittering, golden earrings, happily back where it belongs. "Konichiwa, minna! I hope you've saved something for me to do."  
  
"Ah, Sakura-chan! I've missed you." Aya calls out brightly, rushing over to embrace her friend, and proudly wearing the other half of that familiar jewelry. "We haven't seen you for days. I was getting worried."  
  
"Baka! I'm fine. I've just had so much make-up work at school after my... 'sick-days'."  
  
The girls share a laugh, but truth be told, they have never been happier than the day they finally got to leave Villa White and come home.  
  
As Aya and Sakura catch up, Youji dejectedly start in on work after realizing girl-talk takes precedence over his hope for escape, and everyone else immerses themselves as well. Schuldrich, on the other hand, suddenly appears from the back room, carrying a few tools himself, and Sakura's attention is drawn frighteningly to him as he comes up next to her.  
  
"Hey there, Sweetheart. Long time no capture." the German smirks teasingly. "How have you been?"  
  
Though Aya laughs Schu's playfulness off for what it is, Sakura is a little intimidated - to say the least. "How have I been? In control of my own thoughts, thank you very much, and I'd like to keep it that way."  
  
"Hey now, don't jump to conclusions." Schu mends quickly in defense. "I'm harmless. Most of the time." And then stalks his way off to the far wall to get back to work, leaving Sakura a bit more troubled than she would like.  
  
"Didn't Birman and Manx say they were coming today, too." Hiromi's matchless voice breaks into the room, also with the task of painting the back wall, and wiping a few beads of sweat from her forehead to prove it.   
  
"Actually, they were right behind me." Sakura replies, eager to put her thoughts on something other than Schuldrich. "I think they had to pick someone up from the train station."  
  
As rare as this occurrence is, Ran's curiosity is unbelievably perked by his young friend's words, and he steps up beside her, raising an elegant eyebrow. "Who...?"  
  
Clink. Oh, what a sad, sad sound, but exciting enough if you consider who has walked through the door. Rosuto Aiko, followed by Manx and Birman, make their grand entrance, catching every eye and every ounce of attention.  
  
"Aiko, you're back!" Amaya exclaims, leaping off the stool she had been precariously balancing on. "This has been one of the longest weeks of my life! What took you so long?"  
  
Offering hugs and broad smiles to her dear companions, Aiko struggles to push through the crowd and reach a safe distance inside the shop, especially since she appears to be hiding something behind her back.  
  
"Preparations took longer than I expected." Aiko smiles in reply to Amaya's question, tossing Ran a sharp glance as if to send him a signal he should understand, but doesn't. "Good news, though. The paperwork was finalized, and I have someone for all of you to meet. Come on out, honey."  
  
Countless eyes look on as the sight of two, tiny hands peek from around Aiko's skirt, followed swiftly by large eyes, and the top of an auburn head. A shy, little girl, about 10 years old, is taking comfort in remaining hidden, but the full image of her adorable frame comes into view as she slips out from behind her guardian.  
  
The others offer kind smiles and greetings, but Ran finds himself tensing, straightening his posture, and standing frozen and unsure as if his eyes are deceiving him. The girl looks eerily reminiscent of another girl. One he has a picture of, in fact. And as miraculous as it is, he knows this is indeed the same girl.  
  
"Everyone, I want you to meet...Azumi." Aiko introduces, playing the mother figure, and fitting the part all too well. "Rosuto Azumi, to be exact. She will be staying with us from now on. Azumi...this is everyone."  
  
The poor thing looks positively terrified, staring into a room filled with interesting and down right frightening individuals.   
  
Taking note of the girl's unease, Omi plucks a tulip from the lone vase they have set on the counter, and approaches Azumi very cautiously, holding it out for her to take. "It's okay to be shy, Azumi, but we're all friends here." he comforts, smiling brilliantly as she accepts his offering. "Some of us might seem a little strange at first, but I bet you'll never meet a nicer bunch. Knowing Aiko a little all ready should be proof enough of that."  
  
Azumi smiles, her little cheeks reddening from so much attention, and as her eyes span the room once again, she takes in the many figures with a little more confidence. In fact, when her gaze rests upon a certain dark-haired young man, with glasses falling from the bridge of his nose, those inquisitive eyes gleam to the size of saucers.  
  
Tugging gently on Aiko's skirt, the girl whispers a tentative and anxious question. "Aiko-chan...is that him...?"  
  
Casting a nervous glance from side to side, Brad Crawford isn't exactly sure how to take this act of being singled out. Why would this newcomer, this dear young girl, take so much notice of him?  
  
"Hai, Azumi. Why don't I introduce you?" Aiko suggests warmly, taking hold of her charges hand, and leading her through the shop to stand before Brad, who feels very awkward, even if all this attention is coming from just one tiny person. "Brad, you and Azumi have quite a bit in common."  
  
"We do...?"  
  
Taking the slightest, brave step away from Aiko, and closer to this tall stranger in front of her, Azumi looks up into Brad's bronze eyes behind the glass, and asks in a very small voice. "Do you...sometimes...see what's gonna happen before it happens?"  
  
Unable to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching, Brad grins back at her, nodding with great sincerity and tenderness.   
  
"Really...? So do I!"  
  
At last, those who didn't know Azumi's little secret, understand a little better how special this young girl is.   
  
Aiko senses that so much commotion and unfamiliar faces probably isn't the best thing for Azumi to face right now - with her whole world changing, and all - and kneels down beside her, in order to address the girl more directly. "Why don't you and Brad take a walk together, Azumi? I bet he can answer alot of questions for you." the caring red-head expresses, having planned this all along. "You don't have to be scared. He's a big brother, so he has quite a bit of experience dealing with cute, little girls. What do you say?"  
  
While Brad is deeply blushing from Aiko's comments, Azumi bounces excitedly, and with large smiles on both their faces, they head out the door, joining hands, and painting one of the most heart-warming pictures possible. Even stone-cold Nori has a grin stretched across her face, remembering all the times she used to walk with Brad like that - truth be told, they relived one of those moments just the other day.  
  
It is incredibly therapeutic to occasionally forget you grew up.  
  
Moving from friend to friend, Aiko continues her happy greetings, until eventually getting roped in to help with the repairs, though she is more than happy to be added to the work crew. With so many people helping out, "Kitty in the House" should be back to its old self again in no time. Especially if they can keep Birman and Manx long enough to lend a few hands.  
  
"Kyoko-nesan, could you help me with this wall?" Aya's melodic voice calls to Birman, who - along with Manx - is smartly dressed for a hard days work. "We're almost done with the others, so I thought I'd get a head start."  
  
Giving a confirming nod, Birman silently goes to join the indigo-haired young woman, leaving Manx to search around for her own position in aiding the rebuilding crew. Too bad someone else already has a few ideas for what the sultry red-head can do.  
  
"Manx, you little vixen..." a certain blonde womanizer starts in, suavely working his way over to intercept his favorite object of affection. "With everything that's happened, I think you've about run out of those rain-checks of yours. How about the two of us catch a movie later. I'm a reformed man now, ya know? No more funny business; just innocent fun. Come on, gimme a chance."  
  
As expected, the same old look of disapproval plants itself on Manx' face. However, the same old answer is not what comes out of her tantalizing lips. "You're on." she smirks, and causes Youji to do a major double-take.  
  
"Nani?! Manx, are you actually saying yes?" he exclaims in disbelief, which is exactly what each and every onlooker is thinking, too.  
  
"Hai, I am." Manx laughs in response, thoroughly amused by the reaction she has gotten. "And, honey...the name's Hanae. I think we know each other well enough to forget the Manx business, ne?"  
  
With a teasing swivel of her hips, and a coy wink over her shoulder, she slips passed Youji to join in on one of the many tasks at hand, leaving him flushed, overwhelmed, and flying high on cloud nine.  
  
The tasks at hand are indeed many - finishing patching up one of the side walls, total overhaul on all the windows, painting basically everything, and the soon-to-come fun part of redecorating and restocking the flowers. Amazingly enough, most of the upstairs is already finished and livable, though few things were salvaged after the initial blast so long ago. Still, it has been very nice having an extra building for lodgings once again. The 12 members of the three groups, as well as Toto and Aya, got a bit cramped all in one apartment, though they managed well enough. A couple of them even talked about perhaps getting their own place, but Weiss is very happy with their lives at the flower shop, Aya has to stay with them, the lovely Fluesternd ladies adore their coffee and gift shop, and Schwarz and Toto don't really have any other place to go. Who knows where Fate will take them in the future, but for now they are quite content living and working together.  
  
Life goes on.  
  
In the back room, where all the extra tools and supplies have been stored, Ken is now diligently searching for an extra hammer that Ran asked him to find. Unfortunately, when he finally spots it, the damn thing is mocking him from the top of a very high shelf.  
  
"Youji!" he grumbles angrily, straining to reach it. "Why is it tall people always have to put things away out of everyone else's' reach?"  
  
Ken is by no means a short young man, but he isn't very tall either, and this shelf reaches far above his head. In an effort to get the hammer without having to scavenge for an extra stool, the brunette balances himself on one of the lower shelves, bringing him almost within an inch of success. Just a little further...another stretch of his arm...and...he grabs it, with just enough force - or should I say, too much - to send him tumbling backwards, and heading straight for the harsh comfort of the floor.  
  
It never comes. Instead, strong arms catch him from behind, holding him steady, as a very breathy but strong voice speaks into his ear. "You're a bit of a clutz, aren't you?"  
  
Embarrassed and uncomfortable, Ken struggles to right himself, escaping those saving arms, and spinning around to face the owner of the voice he knows all too well. There before him stands Nori Crawford - yes, Nori Crawford, since that is her true name - who is giving him an adorable, sideways smile.  
  
Scratching the back of his head nervously, Ken hopes to think up some masculinity-saving explanation for his clumsiness, but there isn't any. So, he focuses his attention on her, and notices that she has something tucked under her arm, and clings to it as a topic to switch the subject off of his unfortunate tendencies.  
  
"What's that ya got there?" he questions, gesturing to the book with the hammer he still has clasped in his hand.  
  
Grinning secretively, Nori holds the book up so he can read the title. "This is for you, actually. Do you remember it?"  
  
In a flash, Ken's turquoise eyes light up, and he snatches the book from her hand, staring at the familiar cover in complete and utter awe. "It's my book! The one I was looking for the day we...well...when you -"  
  
"When I called you an idiot, macho underling?"  
  
"Uhhh...yeah. That day." Ken chuckles, remembering how much *fun* their first encounter had been all those weeks ago. "I can't believe you...wait. How did you know this was the book I was looking for? I never got around to telling you what it was?"  
  
Now it is Nori's turn to look a bit uncomfortable. "Oh, I....sort of...snooped around, I guess. The guys know you better than you think they do. All I did was ask the three of them a few simple questions, and I was able to narrow it down. I'm just sorry it took me so long to give it to you."  
  
Ken can't help smiling to himself at this. (Looks like I had them wrong. But she's the one I was really wrong about.)  
  
"Arigato, Nori. This is really sweet of you."  
  
The pair exchanges mirrored looks of contentment and genuine smiles, but soon their moment is replaced by that old, awkward silence. Now what? Sweet conversation, humor, sentiment, and now...nothing.  
  
Ken, obviously, is far from taking the initiative in a situation like this, so the next move is up to Nori, and she is definitely up to the challenge. "This is ridiculous!" she cries in exasperation. "We have been through life and death together and we are still acting like children. Come here!"  
  
Before Ken has time to react, Nori crosses the small space separating them, grabs him by the front of his shirt, and pulls him in for a very unexpected but welcome kiss, sending cold shivers down his spine.  
  
The sensation is intense. Magic. Perfectly -  
  
"Has anyone seen a -" cuts in an ill-timed voice, as someone walks into the room, unaware of what he is about to find. "...oh. Bad timing, huh?"  
  
Achingly pulling apart, Ken and Nori turn away from each other to face who has disturbed them, and discover they have been interrupted by the very last person they would want to catch them in the act.  
  
"Crawford!" Ken blurts out, near hysterics, and becoming unbearably tense in a very short amount of time. After all, there is nothing worse than having your love interest's older and much bigger brother walk in on you while making time with his sister - of whom he is *very* protective of. "Look, this isn't...well...it is, but I...errr...uhh...you're not gonna kill me, are you?"  
  
Brad instantly lifts an eyebrow in response, giving an almost unreadable expression, but Nori is finding all of this incredibly funny. In fact, she's laughing her ass off. Ken, on the other hand, doesn't see the humor.  
  
"No. At least, that wasn't the *first* thought that came to my mind." Brad says in reply to Ken's babbling, sounding way too serious as he pushes his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "Of course, after finishing my walk with Azumi, this wasn't exactly the first thing I thought I would see. Hmmm..."  
  
By the looks of the tall American's face, he seems to be considering something, which doesn't sit very well with Ken. "Wha...what are you thinking about?"  
  
"Oh, just remembering what I imagined myself saying to the young men who would one day come courting my sister."  
  
"Like what?" Nori pipes in, mock-defensively, and with a raised eyebrow of her own.  
  
"You know, the usual." Brad shrugs, moving ever so much closer to Ken. "Don't stay out too late, keep your hands to yourself, I have a .45 and a shovel." On that note he pauses, leaning far forward to make very close eye-contact with Ken. "I do, by the way."  
  
"Brad!"  
  
"Kidding! Just kidding." Brad jumps in quickly, though the slight glint of light over his glasses ties a knot in Ken's stomach. "I guess I will leave you two alone now. I was just looking for that extra hammer."  
  
Catching sight of his quarry in Ken's somewhat trembling hand, Brad gestures to it, which prompts Ken to swiftly turn it over. Then, with a mischievous smile, Brad leaves the storage room behind, and the terrified brunette at last remembers to breathe again.  
  
Nori, of course, immediately bursts out laughing, eating up every sibling moment she can. This moment, without a doubt, is no exception.  
  
"Nori..." Ken inquires, in a very timid voice. "He *was* kidding...right?"  
  
Laughing all the more merrily at this, the lovely, navy-haired young woman pulls Ken in again. "Get over here." And helps him forget about every last one of his apprehensions.  
  
Back inside the main shop area, the others are still busily at work. Well, most of them are anyway. Omi has become distracted by an overwhelming urge to dispel those naughty thoughts Youji planted in Amaya's head.   
  
Over the past few weeks he has tried to let it go, but knowing that she believes him to be something he most certainly is not, just isn't sitting well with him. I mean, who in their right mind would ever imagine little Omiitchi and playboy Yotan getting it on in the back of the mobile flower shop?  
  
No comment.  
  
"Sumimasen, Amaya..." he begins, peering over her shoulder as she stands back to admire her handiwork. "...there's something I've been meaning to tell you."  
  
"What is it, Bombay-kitten?" the pixie grins, giving him her full attention.  
  
"Well...about that conversation we had a while back...you know, in the kitchen, about Youji and I..." Being the innocent minded boy that he is, Omi can't quite finish the thought, but by the sound of Amaya's delighted squeal, he is pretty sure she knows what he is talking about. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know that...well...it isn't true. Youji just said all those things to...actually, I really don't know why he said all those things, but he was just playing around with you. We've never...I mean...uhhh...we're friends. *Just* friends, and that's all we've ever been."  
  
This admission causes the always-present smile on Amaya's face to drain away, and the paintbrush falls limply at her side as she struggles to find the right words. "Does that mean...he was lying about everything? You don't really like me, either?"  
  
"No! I mean, yes! I mean...I *do* like you Amaya. Of course I do." Omi frantically sputters out in attempt at fixing the mess he has only made worse. "I think Youji was just trying to help us get together, that's all. But he didn't have to make anything up about me liking you. I already did."  
  
In less than a heartbeat, Amaya's smile is firmly back on her face, and the paintbrush falls from her fingers completely as her hands become occupied with holding something else - Omi. "That's all I needed to here!"  
  
Watching on as the tiny brunette dips Omi back, Toto also finds herself distracted from work, giggling at how adorable the couple is. She and Nagi have had some very welcome moments of coupliness themselves, but as with everyone else, the past few weeks have been extremely busy for both of them.   
  
Not surprisingly, Toto is a true romantic at heart, and if she were blessed enough to be granted one wish, she knows exactly what it would be. To never spend a single moment apart from the boy she loves.  
  
"Look, Nagi-kun. Aren't they so sweet together?" the turquoise-haired girl sighs nostalgically, her eyes trained on the pair a few feet in front of her.  
  
Turning away from his section of the half-painted wall, Nagi sets his gaze on the heart-warming sight along with Toto, before looking back down at her, and smiling his truly peerless smile. "Hai, Nanami. Sometimes they remind me of us."  
  
"They do?" Toto shoots back, tilting her head up questioningly. "Then why don't you ever kiss *me* like that?"  
  
Such a sudden and blunt accusation leaves Nagi speechless.  
  
"I know we kiss, but it's always *me* kissing *you*, never the other way around." Toto goes on, with a curiously teasing expression. "Are you afraid, or something?"  
  
For what seems like far too long on Nagi's end, he struggles to reply, having little success, until finally forcing himself to admit the truth. "I guess I am a little afraid. I know I shouldn't be, but you remember what happened the time I *did* try to kiss you. It was a disaster! I'll just end up doing it wrong."  
  
"Baka!" Toto reprimands, facing Nagi full on with tiny fists planted firmly on her hips. "You do a great job kissing back. I'm sure you can do it. You just need more faith in yourself. Come on, Nagi-kun. Kiss me."  
  
Blushing profusely, Nagi casts a few sheepish glances around to make sure no one is looking, being a very private and somewhat shy individual. Still, there is no way he would even think about saying no, especially considering how adorable Toto looks with those pouty lips and clenched eyes waiting for him to make his move.  
  
Ever so slowly, he leans in, determined not to bump noses the way he did the last time he tried this, and when their lips finally meet - so softly - with the tender caress only he can offer, every once of fear proves to be worth forgetting.  
  
"Kawaii!" pierces out a nearby voice, high-pitched and full of merriment. "I just love moments like this."  
  
Beat-red and giggling, the pair break apart and realize that the very couple they had just been observing is now observing them. As always, Amaya has attached herself to Omi's arm, but for once, he looks completely at ease with her presence there.  
  
"Heehee! We really are similar, Nagi-kun." Toto laughs, snuggling into his arm the way Amaya has claimed Omi's. "And you kissed very well, by the way. Very well."  
  
The girls share a few naughty looks, while the boys share expressions of embarrassment, but there is clearly a sense of unity between the two couples, like looking into some odd mirror image. In fact, their similarities pop a very ingenious idea into Amaya's head.  
  
"Say, Nanami..." she begins, smiling slyly. "...I just had a thought. Maybe once in a while, if we're up for it, we could...swap. Might be fun."  
  
Naturally, at the very same time, in the very same, panicked tone of voice, Nagi and Omi both cry out. "Swap!?!"  
  
Toto, however, gets an incredibly contemplative look on her face, as if she is seriously considering Amaya's offer. The boys find this profoundly nerve-wracking, but to their extreme relief, she eventually gets a huge grin on her face, and both girls burst out laughing, commenting on how easy it is to get their two young men to believe something.  
  
"You know, I used to think they were frightening enough on their own." Omi whispers in Nagi's ear, while the girls continue their cruel sense of bonding. "But now that they're friends...I think we're in over our heads."  
  
Nagi, of course, whole-heartedly agrees.  
  
A little ways away, Schuldrich and Hiromi are finishing putting the last few loose boards up around the nearly completed wall, having taken in the chibis' exchanges out of the corners of their eyes.  
  
Though you might expect the exact opposite, the two of them have been working side by side without speaking barely two words to each other the entire day. Of course, spoken words aren't always necessary, but Schu hasn't been up to his old tricks again either. Truth be told, he was forced to swear that from now on he will only break into someone else's thoughts with permission, or if it is an emergency, and he hasn't gone back on his word once.  
  
Well, he is trying really hard not to, anyway.  
  
"Look at those kids." Schuldrich comments with a smirk, nudging Hiromi gently in the side to get her attention. "You think they know how unprepared they are to grow up?"  
  
In response, Hiromi offers a very skeptical furrow of her brow. "Look who's talking. You have the emotional maturity of a sock-puppet."  
  
"Oh really? Thanks for the vote of confidence." he shoots right back. "You don't fool me for a second. I know how you really feel about me."  
  
Hiromi's previously skeptical look is replaced by something far more animated. "The only thing I feel for you is pity. How anyone could be granted with the gift to see inside people's minds and still be so oblivious to what they actually think is beyond me."  
  
"Then why do you find me so attractive?"  
  
"What makes you think that?"  
  
"I have my ways."  
  
"Ways you shouldn't be using without my consent."  
  
"If you have nothing to hide then why do you care?"  
  
"..."  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
There is nothing Chin Hiromi hates more than being left speechless. Conversation is her forte, after all, and no one ever gets the one-up on her. Well, until now, that is.  
  
Though Schu is happily returning to his brush strokes, wearing a smirk that could make almost anyone want to punch him, the voluptuous blonde next to him is sitting silent and annoyed, searching for a come back she just doesn't have.  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"No you don't."  
  
"Well, if I don't, then why don't you do something about it?"  
  
"Why don't *you*?"  
  
"..."  
  
Ooo, got her again. Or...did he?   
  
Rising from her spot on the floor, Hiromi steps up very close to Schu from behind, playfully enough, temptingly enough, to force him to turn and face her. Now, Schuldrich is no amateur, but he hasn't come across the likes of someone like this before, especially not someone with such tantalizing curves.  
  
His face going blank, all words and breath catch in Schu's throat as Hiromi calls his bluff and leans in, placing the lightest, feather touch of a kiss on his lips, and leaving him begging for more.  
  
"I just wanted to make sure I'd have the upper hand." Hiromi whispers, hovering less than a centimeter from his now moistened lips. Schuldrich is positively trembling. "And now that I do...I can take my time."  
  
Pulling swiftly back, she leaves him hanging there, suspended, and dives back into her chore as if nothing had happened at all.   
  
For maybe the briefest moment Schuldrich's eyes flash with anger, confusion, longing, but he refuses to play the fool for his emotions. Instead, that old familiar, side-ways smirk paints over his features, and he joins back in on the painting, humming a very jovial tune under his breath.  
  
(I just love the difficult ones...)  
  
Returning to that infamous back room once again, Farfarello is now the lone figure to be occupying it, searching for a few packs of nails that are apparently buried somewhere in the mess at the back.  
  
Lucky him.  
  
All of his old, customary wounds have healed over now, making bandages unnecessary, but outside of getting a glass eye, he won't be losing the patch anytime soon. It doesn't bother him the way it would bother most people, though it does often feel like a shower of ice water every time he looks in the mirror, catching sight of all those scars looking back at him.   
  
Once upon a time, they were things of beauty to be admired, but now he wishes he could make them go away.  
  
Forgetting about the nails for a moment, Farfie sits down on one of the crates at the back, staring off into space - lost in thought. Life isn't easy, but no one ever said it would be. That is why we have friends, remember? And *Jei* is no exception to this rule.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
Caught off guard, Farfarello jumps a little in his seat, flinching his head up towards the intruder's voice. He isn't all that surprised to see who it is, though. "I would say I've been better, but that's not really true." he breathes out low and gentle, almost hypnotic at the sound. "Some days are difficult, but everything was so much harder before you came into my life...Aiko."  
  
Pulling up a crate of her own, the graceful red-head moves in close to her troubled friend, always ready to offer an ear, especially after being gone for so long. "I always knew this would be the hardest on you, Jei. I remember what it was like for myself. Would you like to know what I think might really help put your past behind you?"  
  
Farfie doesn't have to reply, the look in his breathtaking, tawny eye is enough.  
  
"You and I need to take a trip together." Aiko explains, gradually moving an arm around the young albino's shoulders, and pulling him in to rest his head against her. "Ruth's body was shipped back to her congregation, you know? We could visit everyone all at once. Your whole family. It would be good for you to see home again."  
  
There is a tightness that clings to Farfarello's chest, and it shines through in his expression, as well as his words. "I don't know if I can do that yet..."  
  
"I understand. But it should be soon. As much as it hurts, you are still their child. Ruth's and your other family's. To them you will always be Jei...hn. I don't know your last name." Aiko realizes in mid-thought, since she hasn't been able to complete his title. "I have never had to use it before. Do you remember what it is?"  
  
At first, he looks as if he is about to say it, but then his brow creases, and his shoulders hunch just a little more. He doesn't remember. It has been so long, with so much put between him and those happy, childhood days.   
  
"It's all right, Jei. All the more reason to visit them when you are ready." Aiko soothes, holding him tighter. "Until then, you will just have to use mine. Rosuto Jei doesn't sound half bad, ne? Heh...it's sort of ironic. Your name means 'follower of God,' so if you pair it with mine, it becomes -"  
  
"A lost follower of God..." Farfie finishes, smiling somberly at how fitting it truly is.  
  
Aiko, however, knows to take it a little further. "Not only that. A lost follower of God who was found again. He loves you, Jei. Looking down on you, your family loves you, too...and so do I."  
  
Ah, the tranquil peace of heart-filled moments. But even the most cherished silence is sometimes better off broken.  
  
Pulling gently away from her, Farfarello stands from his crate, and takes Aiko's hands to help her up, as well. The smile on his face now is beautifully reminiscent of that long forgotten photo of a little, Catholic boy laughing with his friends.   
  
How amazing it is what a smile - a real smile - can do for a person's appearance. Though many people may find such disfigurements as Farfarello's frightening, even hideous, he is truly beautiful, and would look that way to anyone with the pleasure of seeing what a smile as rare as his can do.  
  
"Aiko...there is something I have been wanting to do...for a long time." the Irishman begins, lowering his uniquely golden gaze. "And...if I don't go through with it here and now...I never will. Whether I regret it later or not...I have to do this..."  
  
Following with the day's trend, Farfarello lifts his hands to Aiko's face, cupping her chin, and pulls her to him, enveloping her lips so passionately in such a simple movement, Aiko's breath is whisked away on the wind. She succumbs to it completely, and as shocked as she is to be on the receiving end, if it wasn't for a certain pair of peeping eyes, there is no telling what it would have taken to break them apart.  
  
BAM!  
  
Aiko and Farfarello are jerked apart by the resonance of this unknown sound, like that of someone angrily slamming their first into the wall.  
  
Turning her head instantly towards the door, Aiko catches sight of a pair of violet eyes staring into the room, staring straight through her, before whomever it is dashes away, disappearing back into the shop. Farfarello saw those haunting irises, too, and both know full well who was spying on them.  
  
"Abyssinian!" Aiko calls, taking an instinctive step forward, but the full realization of what has happened holds her back. "Jei...I -"  
  
"Go." Farfie cuts her off, expressionless, though oddly understanding. "You have to catch up to him."  
  
"But you -"  
  
"It's all right." he breaks in again, smiling very subtly, but enough to be genuine, because it is. "It was just something I had to do. He is the one who needs you...the way you need him. You don't have to worry about me. Just go. Go after him."  
  
I can't say if it was the lighting, the way her skin glowed white, the way her eyes shone like true amethysts, or even the way her long, red hair blazed like the flicker of a flame, but at that moment, when Aiko touched her hand to Farfarello's cheek, she looked more radiant and loving than she ever had before.   
  
And then she was gone, sprinting out the storage room door.  
  
"Did Abyssinian come through here?!" an unbelievably frantic Aiko cries out to the others, fluttering haphazardly from person to person in the main room of the shop.  
  
"Yeah, just a second ago. He ran out the side door." Ken gives in answer, while everyone else begins huddling in around them. "He looked pretty freaked. What happened?"  
  
"Long story." Aiko replies. "Let's just say he saw something that wasn't what he thought it was. I should have known he would run away. Damnit! Why does he always have to be so stubborn and thick-headed?"  
  
Though the others obviously understand Aiko's statements, they are at a slight loss for responses, feeling quite taken aback by her exasperation.  
  
All except Schu, that is, who is never at a loss for words. "That's Fujimiya, all right. Predictable as they come."  
  
"Well, wherever he has gone, I have to find him. I just hope he hasn't gotten too far." And with that Aiko throws open the door, Hell-bent on following him, but instead of finding an empty alleyway, she comes face to face with a mirror. Or, as I am sure you can guess, a young man who could very easily pass for her twin.  
  
"Stubborn, am I? Thick-headed?" Ran growls, stalking back inside, and getting right in Aiko's face. "That's what you think of me? Just a predictable, little boy, throwing a tantrum?!"  
  
As anyone would be, Aiko is down right scared, backing away with an even paler disposition than usual.  
  
"You want to know what I hate more than anything right now?!" Ran bellows on, grabbing Aiko by the shoulders, and spinning her around to press her back into the wall. "That no one thinks I can be spontaneous!"  
  
And boy does his next action prove all those people wrong.  
  
Pinning Aiko there against the wall, Ran finishes off the shop's ongoing tendencies for the day, and kisses her with more passion than anyone could have ever imagined he had.  
  
(It's about time he took my advise.) the smirking German muses. (I knew he had it in him.)  
  
The moment lasts a good handful of perfect moments, and even with over a dozen other people in the room, the two red-headed beauties are alone in the world long enough to enjoy it.  
  
Pulling away at last, Ran releases Aiko from the kiss, but keeps her pinned just a bit longer, making sure he will get to see her reaction.   
  
The first thing *she* does is let out a long, quivering sigh, getting a hold of her bearings, but as soon as her eyes meet Ran's again, the flustered look on her face melts into a very pleased smile. "As far as the spontaneity goes..." she starts off, still a bit breathless, but loving how this day is turning out. "...I think you have it down...Ran."   
  
The name purrs off her lips with a sultry twist - the first time she has called him by name, actually, though he has already gotten used to calling her Aiko - and brave Fujimiya Ran is fighting off a few pesky butterflies at the sound of it, despite his recent leap of faith.  
  
Eventually, things settle down in the shop, and all goes gradually back to normal. Boards are being nailed, walls are being painted, and many interesting bits of conversation are fluttering about. This doesn't mean there isn't a bit more fun to be had, though.  
  
Making his way across the street, Schuldrich has his sights on a refreshing, Italian soda from the cafe stand, as well as a much deserved break. Nearing the doors, however, he notices that Farfarello has seated himself at one of the outside tables that now line the shop's front, and the albino appears to be very deep in thought. What better reason to take a quick, harmless peek at what might be on the young man's mind.  
  
"How ya doing, Farf?"  
  
Offering a small smile, the Irishman welcomes his friend's company, glad to have someone join him at the table, and help him clear his mind. "Really well, to tell the truth. I don't think I have been this happy in a long time."  
  
"Glad to hear it." Schu grins back. "But...I don't know...are you sure you don't mind Firefly and the Abominable Snowman getting together. I've seen the way you look at her sometimes."  
  
In reply, Farfarello merely lowers his gaze, and the smallest shade of color flushes his whitened cheeks. "I'm sure. The way I see it, if something is meant to be, it will eventually work itself out. Who am I to meddle in Fate?"  
  
All Schu can think of to answer back with is a laugh, that resounding, nasal melody, and that is all he needs to do. Even on his best days, there will always be a part of Farfarello that Schuldrich just doesn't get, though there is also a part of the unique Irishman that he alone understands.  
  
None of the other outside tables are occupied right now, but the presence of two, former teammates sitting together is a magnet for more, and Nagi and Brad suddenly appear out of the woodwork. Well, Brad from around back and Nagi from inside the shop, anyway.  
  
"Hehehe...would you look at us." Schu smirks, rising from his chair, and throwing each of his friends a curious glance. "I still can't believe it."  
  
"Believe what?" Nagi's smooth voice asks, with a tilt of his brunette-colored head.  
  
"This." the red-head gives in answer, as if the word alone is explanation enough. Luckily, he plans to elaborate. "Just look at us. Control, family, friends, sanity! Who'd have ever thought it would ever turn out like this?"  
  
Leaning back against the building, Brad stares upward at the sky, appearing very calm and relaxed. "I did."  
  
All three of his companions give their former leader a very skeptical raise of their eyebrows, but Brad's features are completely serious. Whether it sounds impossible or not, he truly believes his statement, even if the others find that very hard to believe.  
  
"Don't you remember?" Brad continues, responding to those critical gazes. "The day all of this started I had a vision that Fluesternd would destroy us. They did, didn't they? Schwartz no longer exists."  
  
A peaceful, contented silence drifts over them, thinking that obvious fact over, and every one of them realizes that Brad is absolutely right. From the very beginning they knew how this was going to end, even if there were quite a few surprises along the way.  
  
"No Schwarz. No Weiss. The girls aren't even Fluesternd anymore." Schu comments, smiling thoughtfully to himself. "So what do we call ourselves now? This big, oversized group of ours still plans to defend the weak and abused, don't we? More or less, anyway, right? We should have a name."  
  
The four of them eye each other, searching for an appropriate title, but the one who finally comes up with it is Farfarello. "Ergraute." the albino states simply.  
  
At the sound of this suggestion, Schu's jade eyes glitter with approval. "Way to go, Farf! That's perfect."  
  
"Ergraute...?" Nagi repeats, sounding out the word. "What does it mean?"  
  
Having the most authority when it comes to the German language, Schuldrich moves closer to Nagi and slips an arm around the boy's shoulders - an action that once upon a time would have made Nagi's skin crawl. "The best translation for it, Nag, is 'turned grey'. Fitting, don't you think? After all, there is no more black or white for us, just one very widespread combination. I like it."  
  
In all fairness, Farfarello looks quite pleased with himself, and the others have to agree that the name is just what the witch-doctor ordered. They will have to remember to tell the others about it later.  
  
"You know, it feels strange sometimes, being like this around each other." Brad ponders aloud. "Friends. Maybe we could've been more like this a long time ago if I hadn't...uh..." he trails off, unable to finish his self-loathing apology as he jerks forward slightly, an unseen force striking his temples.  
  
The others recognize the signs, growing silent in anticipation for what Brad's gift is showing him. Truthfully, he hasn't had too many large visions since the final battle, but a large part of it has to do with his state of mind. If you don't care about sports, you won't be getting any visions concerning the winner of the World Series. If you no longer plan to destroy the world, you hopefully won't be getting any visions concerning death and destruction unless you are supposed to prevent it.  
  
Meaning, no premonitions can sometimes be a good thing.  
  
The tremor passes, and Brad catches his breath, staring off into space, but before anyone can inquire as to what he saw, a boisterous squeal sounds from somewhere inside "Kitten's Cafe," and the doors swing open, with little Azumi bounding out of them. "Brad-niisan!" she cries, rushing to her newfound buddy, and showing much less inhibition than before. "Did you see what I just saw? Did you see -"  
  
"Shhh." the tall American hushes with a smile, kneeling briskly down beside her. "You wouldn't want to spoil it for everyone, would you, Azumi-chan? Why don't we keep this between us."  
  
Mirroring Brad's somewhat sly expression, Azumi nods, and without another word, goes bustling back inside the shop, giggling merrily to herself.  
  
Chuckling a little as well, Brad stands back up, and returns his friends' anxious looks with nothing more than a silent grin.  
  
"Well, what did you see?" Schu prompts, realizing that Brad doesn't seem to be sharing.  
  
"Didn't you hear what I told Azumi?" Brad replies. "I would hate to spoil it for you."  
  
The disbelieving German lets out an indignant grunt, glaring at Brad is if he must be completely out of his mind. "You mean, you're not going to tell us?"  
  
Laughing all the more, Brad merely shakes his head, and truth be known, Nagi and Farfarello find this quite funny themselves. After so many years of having insider information, Schu just can't stand the thought of being left out of the loop.  
  
"Sorry, Emery." Brad replies, still beaming brightly. "But if there is one thing I have learned after all this, it's that sometimes...sometimes it is better to be surprised."  
  
  
*****owari*****  
  
  
YAYAYAYAYAYA!!! *****A/N***** OMG!!! It's done! It really is! I spent almost a year writing this and weeks revising it, but now it is truly finished. Anyhoo, a couple notes. Forgot to mention that when Ran says Aiko's name at the end of 19, that was the first time he had ever called her anything but Korat. Also, if you wanna know what Brad and Azumi saw...tough! No, in all truth and honesty, I can't tell ya, cause I don't know. Decide for yourselves. On a final note - YAY FINAL - I would just like to thank all the supporters, readers, and reviewers, and to all who have reviewed, this is the defining moment. If you already have, or if you haven't, this is when I need it most. Final opinions. Give 'em to me, please! Alrighty, I guess it's till next time now, so thanks again, hope you liked, and I love every last one of you! ~Crimson~ 


	21. Endlessly Grey

P.S.  
*****  
Here is a song a wrote long ago to accompany this fic. "Endlessly Grey," copywritten as mine, but free for all to enjoy. :-)  
*****  
hear the whisper in the wind  
calling you  
the same sad voice  
haunting every corner of your mind  
  
will the razor bend  
if you bleed again  
will the wind fade away  
withering on feathered wings  
drowning out the whispering  
of the angels at your back  
watching you  
  
where is the middle ground  
when everything's turned upside down  
  
*when will we cry for the angels   
who've given everything for us  
when will we pray for the children  
who've fallen along the way  
when will we fade into grey*  
  
falling ashes in the air  
burnt away  
the fire stills  
leaving you to battle with your heart  
will the colors bend  
if you scream again  
will the flame fade away  
leaving black and white alone  
ashen shades to hold their own  
it's the all forgotten dream  
breaking through  
  
where can the light be found  
when black beasts are hunting you down  
  
*chorus*  
  
look in the mirror  
what do you see these days  
nothing but crimson stains  
Oh  
  
*chorus*  
  
grey  
cause we are all   
endlessly grey 


End file.
